


Twin Sons and Different Brothers Redux

by Maygra, thewildmole



Category: Highlander: The Series, Lattice, Original Work, Vampire: The Masquerade
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-18
Updated: 2016-11-09
Packaged: 2018-02-17 05:58:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 24
Words: 195,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2298998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maygra/pseuds/Maygra, https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewildmole/pseuds/thewildmole
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Twin Sons & Different Brothers: an ongoing Vampire/Immortal Crossover by thewildmole and maygra.</p>
<p>Original Characters set in the universes established by Highlander & Vampire: The Masquerade. Additional material from LATTICE: Tales of the MATADA.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fear of Falling

Max’s momentum meant he couldn’t avoid the collision.  He threw his hands up but they were in an ineffective barrier and he grunted as the rest of his body slammed into the brick wall and the rough surface tore at his exposed skin and bit into the thin cotton of his T-shirt.  Dozens of tiny abrasions began to burn as Max gulped in a breath and waited.  He thought he heard one of the agents yelling at his partner to split up and go around the other side of the alley and sucked in another breath as he realized there was only one way out. 

_Fuck!  Fuckfuckfuck._ The litany did nothing to calm down his heart, already beating a mile a minute in his chest from the appearance and subsequent attempt to lose the FBI agents who just wanted to “talk” to him about Vault.  Talk, his ass.  And if Sammy found out he’d done anything besides play stupid, he was going to be “talking” to Max.  And Sammy’s talks could be…unpleasant.  Especially if Max got a reputation as a heat merchant.

He heard another shout; the female agent this time.  He thought they might be closer but it was hard to hear over the roaring of his blood in his ears and the attempts to get his breathing under control.  Max chanced a glance up and immediately had to shut his eyes as dizziness took hold.  Bile coated his mouth and he grimaced at the sour taste.  He forced himself to swallow it back down as he considered his personalized rock and hard place:  Feds or Sammy.

He was so fucking screwed.

Another shout, closer this time, was the deciding factor.  He grabbed the fire escape and yanked on the lowest rung, glancing quickly to see if the screeching of metal had tuned either Fed into his location.  Seeing no one, Max took a deep breath and began clambering up the ladder with sweat-slick hands.  Trying not to look anywhere but at the brick in front of him, he misjudged a step.  His left foot slipped and he frantically grabbed at the ladder, an adrenaline spike surging up and then pulling him into its undertow, leaving him frozen and clutching the ladder.  His mind screamed at him the need to move, to disappear, and Max forced his hands to unlock from the death’s grip on the rungs above him and awkwardly began to climb again.  The scent of rust and metal enveloped him and mixed with the rank odor of his sweat.  _Don’t look down_ , he chanted to himself.  _Just don’t fucking look down._

Max gracelessly clambered up the last few rungs and nearly belly-flopped on to the rooftop in relief, breathing heavily and wiping sweat from his face before rolling to his knees and slowly getting to his feet.  He stayed low, not wanting to chance a look over the side – strictly because they might see him if they were there, he told himself.  He waited, listening, but didn’t hear anything that sounded like someone climbing after him and no voices echoed in the alley below him.

Now, though, came the part that really sucked.  He’d done it before but he didn’t like it.  At all.  Max gave brief thought to just waiting for a while and then chancing the climb back down but the Feds might be down there and waiting.  He’d been a runner for Vault – strictly low-level – but that didn’t mean he hadn’t seen or heard something they wanted to know about.  And the times he’d acted as Vault’s driver were times Max didn’t want to think about at all.  Worse, he might run into Sammy before he could get his story straight on tonight’s unanticipated meet-and-greet.  Both options were messy and Max decided the more distance he could put between himself and either one was the better part of valor right now. 

He needed to keep moving and it was darker on the roof, much darker than down below where street lamps cast a sickly amber glow.  “How did this get to be my life?” he muttered.  _You chose it, asshole._

Wow.  He couldn’t even get sympathy from his own psyche. 

No time like the present.  He'd have to try and pick out landmarks from up above and then make his way over to his apartment building.  Max stood up and rubbed his hands against his pants before dragging a deep breath into his lungs.  As he did, a sound startled him and he whipped around looking for the source.  Not seeing anything, he exhaled and drew in another shaky breath and starting to run towards the edge of the building. 

As he gathered himself to make the jump, he thought he saw a shadow on the roof beyond and Max tried to halt his forward momentum but it was too late.  The stumble cost him, however, and even as he desperately tried to leap with as much strength as possible, he knew he wasn’t going to make it even as both feet left the roof.

He made an instinctive grab and felt his fingers touch the concrete and brick and Max frantically grabbed for a handhold.  For a moment, he felt his fingers grip the edge of the opposite roof, pebbled texture tearing at his palms as he continued to slide inexorably off the edge.  He scrabbled once more for any type of handhold and then he was falling…

Or not. Something clamped around his left wrist like a vise and he yelped as the bones seemed to grind together and the impact felt like it ripped his shoulder out of its socket.  Max hung there for a second, fear and unreasonable hope warring within him before he began moving upward. 

The next thing Max realized was he was lying flat on something solid.  His left arm was stretched out in front of him and his belly was touching the roof.  He concentrated on the feel of solid ground beneath him and the burn in his arm muscles as his breath gusted back warm and sour in his face.  Whatever had just happened, he was grateful the god of luck had decided to intervene and help him catch the roof ledge and pull himself up.  The catalogue of aches and pains now making themselves known all over his body seemed a small price to pay for not being a greasy spot on the ground.

And then the god of luck cleared his throat.

Max’s head shot up and he realized he wasn’t lying on the roof; rather, he was laying _on_ someone on the roof; specifically between the spread legs of his apparent savior.  The face in front of him blinked and smiled at him.  Max yanked his arm away and scrambled back, falling backwards to sit on his ass and stare in stunned surprise at the man looking back at him.

His rescuer moved to a more relaxed pose, leaning back on his elbows with his legs still out in front of him as he looked at Max.  The small smile turned into a wider grin.  "A simple thank you would have done," he said in a voice that was laced with a Southern drawl but not the New Orleans accent Max had adopted.  He flexed his hips slightly, reminding Max of the rather intimate position they had just been in. "But I'm not complaining,"

“Uhhhh…”  This guy had caught him?  Max couldn’t make out much in the dark but what he could see gave him an impression of fair skin and a slender build.  “Thank you?”

“You’re welcome,” the other man said, amusement evident in his voice.

Max continued to stare while he tried to make sense of what had just happened.  There was no way this guy should have been able to get over to the roof in time to even make a grab for him; much less pull him up and over and not even seem to be out of breath.  Sweat trickled down his back and his muscles ached and burned.  The palms of his hands felt damp and sore.  He drew one leg up and hissed as his thigh muscles protested. 

“Thanks,” he said again, this time as a statement rather than a question.  “It was lookin’ like I was gonna wake up in a rehab learning to braid lanyards for fun and profit." That caused his rescuer to laugh and, as he did, Max caught a glimpse of small, fang-like canines.

_Oh, God_.  He wanted to vomit and his stomach clenched like it might oblige him.  _First Vault and then Yvette and now this guy._  If bad things happened in threes, Max had just met his quota.  From what little he’d been told by Basil, Max wasn’t even supposed to _know_ these people existed and only the fact that he’d found out about Vault after his boss’ murder and Yvette had come to him in a panic and revealed herself had saved him so far.

“Something wrong?”

Max realized he’d been staring.  _Great._   That in itself probably told the guy Max knew something was up.  Damn, but he was _way_ off his game.  Then again, finding out your boss and your ex-girlfriend were members of the undead could do that to a guy.

Max sighed and steeled himself.  "You're...uh…you’re one of them, aren't you?"

The smile faded a bit as the other man nodded and moved to sit up, hooking his arms around his knees. "If by them,” he said quietly, “you mean vampire?”  There was a pause and he looked down at his interlocked arms for several moments before looking back at Max. “Yeah.  Don't worry,” he quickly added, sounding anxious.  “Not hunting."

_So you say._ Although considering he was currently trapped on a rooftop with a vampire, Max figured he didn’t have a lot of choices other than to at least pretend belief until he could get back on solid ground and as far, far away from this whole mess as possible.

“It’s…” Max swallowed hard.  “No big deal.  My, um, ex-girlfriend is one.”  _Okay.  Step one in admitting you have a problem with vampires is to admit you know vampires._

Except Max had no idea what step two was.  A change of subject seemed a good idea.  "You hang out on roofs a lot?"

The other man rose to his feet in a swift, graceful movement,  Max braced himself but the guy only held out a hand towards Max and didn’t seem at all like he was about to drain Max’s blood from his body – not that Max would exactly know what that looked like. "Yeah, actually I do,” he said, the Southern accent a little stronger now, vowels swooping and dipping around dropped consonants.  “I did at home anyway.  It’s a great place to get away. Not too many visitors." The smile returned a little shyly. "I heard the noise and took a look just in time to see you doing a Batman imitation."

Despite himself, Max looked back at the ledge he'd nearly fallen from and then back at the vampire standing in front of him. "Yeah, I usually do a bit better than that." In response to the other man's quizzical look, he tried to explain a bit further even though he wasn't exactly sure why since he seemed to have already scored the Get Out of Vampire Jail Free card. "I've had...previous experience."

The vampire's hand was still out. "I'm not going to bite. Honest. I didn't just haul your ass up here because you looked like an easy meal."

_I certainly hope not._ Twenty-four hours of helping out a nearly hysterical ex-girlfriend who'd come to confess that she was now one of the undead did not qualify him to be an expert on vampires by any means. Still, the guy seemed if not harmless, at least friendly, and it would be better not to antagonize him.  Max didn’t know if there was some type of vampire reporting agency but it was better not to take the chance.  He extended his left hand, keeping his right unseen by long habit. It made the process of assisted standing a bit more difficult since Max had to extend his hand across his body but, eventually, both of them were upright.  One he was standing up, Max found himself under closer scrutiny and did his best to stand firm and look his rescuer in the eye.  The fact he was a few inches taller gave him a feeling of security that only lasted as long as he didn't think about the strength that would have been used to rescue him.

"I've seen you before.  Earlier?  At the Blue Flamingo?  You were with the girl who looked to be in a world of hurt. Val Everett," he added belatedly. 

"Max Griffin," he responded automatically. "And I was at the Flamingo earlier but I don't recall seeing you."

"I think we'd just gotten there when you ditched.  You looked...occupied with your friend," he murmured. Max found himself the object of another once over.  There didn’t seem to be any challenge in his rescuer’s gaze, just curiosity.

_Straight as a board. Cute, but straight._  Val thought although, oddly, he wasn't disappointed even though Max was someone he might have gone for in his other life – about six feet tall, Val judged, with dark hair, very green eyes and what looked like a good body underneath the T-shirt and jeans. _Oh, well_.  Somebody had to breed the babies and it sure as hell wasn't going to be him. He let his eyes scan the rooftop behind Max, hearing attuned to any further sign of pursuit but sensed nothing. He was intrigued, though, having heard the yells and foot chase below before seeing Max appear on the rooftop next to his and head towards the edge like a man possessed.  He realized Max was speaking and turned his attention back to the other man.

"That was Yvette. She's kinda new to this whole undead gig and I was trying to help her out." What that might mean to this Val, Max didn't know. "I don't think I've seen you around the Quarter. You new 'round here?"

"Being a new vampire can be very...rough," Val said softly, His smile faded as he seemed to consider some dark thought and then toss it away.  Then the smile returned. "And I am very new to New Orleans."

Max grimaced and looked down at their still clasped hands.  That got him a murmured apology and he shoved his now free hand into his jeans pocket, ignoring the sharp stabs of pain.  "Well, I probably shouldn't be hanging out up here much longer and you shouldn't either unless you really enjoy talking to the authorities."

"Wouldn't be the first time," Val muttered. "But I doubt the cops here are interested in me."

Max smiled ruefully. "No, they’re not.  Friendly word of warning: if you're hanging out with me, you're bound to get asked a whole lot of questions."

"I already talked to them and didn't know you then." Val chuckled a little. "Pushy though...and they aren't local. You do know that, right?"

"Fuck, don't I know it," Max said bitterly. "Same damn song, same damn verse. Go after the--" He stopped, wary of saying too much even to someone his instincts told him was on the same side of the law that he was. Instead, he turned away and paced a bit and continued to let his breathing work its way back down to normal. His right hand felt like he'd scraped the hell out of it but he didn't want to take it out of his pocket to look; instead, he pulled his left hand out of his pocket enough to check and was not surprised to find the skin pink and criss-crossed with brick skid marks and drops of blood. He'd fought hard to stay on that ledge before Val had saved him.

"Are you okay? You didn't sprain anything?" Val asked, seeming genuinely concerned. "I forget sometimes that I'm stronger...now," he finished.  He sounded embarrassed. "If you need to rest a bit, go ahead. Anyone heads our way I’ll hear, smell or see them before they get too close.  Besides, your heart's still racing a little fast," he added.

"I'm fine.  Hands are just a little sore," Max offered. While the idea of a vampire as sentry was surprisingly comforting, the same vampire being able to hear and count off his heartbeats was not.  Beyond the metaphoric stains, Max certainly didn’t want to introduce the idea that there was quite literally blood on his hands into the equation. 

"So what do they want you for?  You don't have to answer."

Max looked at Val for a long moment. Now that they'd stood talking face to face, Max’s eyes had adjusted enough to catch more of the expressions on Val’s face.  The vampire looked relaxed but his eyes tracked Max and seemed to study him.  His clothes looked expensive – well, more expensive than Max’s at any rate – and while this Val was definitely a guy, he was damn near pretty with blue eyes and curly dark hair that almost touched his shoulders.   

Max shrugged.  “I do some…work around town and they have an unhealthy interest in my employers.”  Max decided to switch the topic.  “What are you doin’ ‘round here?”

It was Val’s turn to shrug.  He gazed out over the rooftops.  “I work for Maddie Dupre.” 

_Fantastic._ Out of all the rooftops in New Orleans, he had to leap onto the one with Vault’s partner-in-crime.  “Is she, uh…?”

“Not requiring oxygen?” Val asked.  “Yeah.”

Max groaned.  If that was true, then that meant Maddie was going to also have a vested interest in keeping him silent.  It might be time to leave New Orleans.  He could always get back on the carny circuit.  He’d just have to avoid certain outfits.  “They say they just wanna ‘talk’,” he said.

"That's pretty much the story they gave in the bar." Val hesitated. He didn't know Max and the man didn't have any reason to trust his instincts at all. "But I think they did want to talk to you pretty badly. From what little I could get, they seemed pretty concerned about something.  Scared even. Something odd is going on and that’s no lie." He moved past Max, settling down on the ledge to sit again and bracing himself on the concrete guard. "But there is talk and then there is  _talk_ ," he acknowledged.

Max wished his body would stop clamoring for him to pay attention to his aches and pains and injuries. It was making it difficult to concentrate.  "There were two. The guy looks like he’s from central casting. The woman's different."  He moved slightly closer but still not close enough to see over the edge of the guard.

Val laughed again.  It was a nice sound, deep and truly amused. "Yeah, well, you know what they say about us and them," he said teasingly, blue eyes dancing as he tossed Max's words back at him. "But I don't think she was looking for an easy meal either."

Max’s legs gave way and he found himself sitting back down on the roof and leaning against the exhaust vent. "Oh man, she's a vampire _too_?" he asked, wincing as his voice scaled up in disbelief out of its normal tenor range.

Val nodded. "I’m not great at picking out others like me, but yeah. Unless she has the average body temp of a slab of bacon, I would say she is Kindred." He tripped over the last word as if unused to saying it. "And the word she used in referring to your..." He was guessing but he had a suspicion he was on target. "Your former employer?  She said he was old which means that however he died caught her off guard.  And unless I’ve really lost my ability to size people up, I’d hazard she's not new to the nightlife either."

Max blew out a breath and leaned his head back against the exhaust vent, shutting his eyes.  “Fucking wonderful,” he muttered.  “Not only is my boss dead – and dead before he was dead –“ he said, throwing caution to the wind now that the shit seemed to be piled even higher and deeper than he’d previously thought.  “I’ve got the FBI _and_ vampires wanting to talk to me and I've gotta convince 'em I don't know shit."  He gently banged the back of his skull against the vent a few times and let the echo fade before speaking again.  “What the fucking hell am I going to do?”

Val churned the pieces over in his mind, not liking the conclusions he drew since he was operating on minimal information on all fronts.  Still, sometimes the better part of valor was getting out while the getting was good "You know, slipping out of town probably would be a really good idea," he suggested quietly.

"No can do," Max told him. "Bad career move. You just don't up and leave without talking to the...bosses. I do that and I'm going to be in even bigger trouble than I already am. Besides, I...want to make sure Yvette is all right.  I mean, she’s my ex but…" He trailed off.  There really wasn’t any way to finish that sentence.  She was his ex.  He didn’t owe her anything.  Except he remembered when she first showed up at the Naked Bayou looking for a job as a stripper; seventeen and trying her damndest to lie about it.  He'd lied the exact same way when he’d left New Jersey and hired on with his first carnival.  Even if they weren’t together anymore, Max still knew better than he wanted to what it was like to be on your own in a world that made no sense and was full of people who’d hurt you as soon as look at you.   "So, yeah, no need for a forwarding address." Max was talking to himself, he felt. Val probably didn't understand what he meant.

Respect for the man sitting in front of him suddenly overwhelmed Val. _Mother Mary!_   Things might have been different if someone had cared for him when he had been brought over.  His thoughts choked on that statement.  Someone had cared enough, like Max apparently did for Yvette. Hopefully Yvette would be a little more careful with her friends. He swallowed, suddenly sick and ashamed, and buried that feeling just like he’d buried Marcus. "Keeping a low profile can be tough," Val said, speaking softly to keep from screaming and focusing on Max as a way to keep his other thoughts locked away.  The other man looked about as well as Val felt at the moment: confused and fearful and just plain worn down by life…and death.

"You ever just--" Max stopped. Where had that come from? The words rose up in the back of his throat and pressed against his lips until he had to speak them. "You ever just feel like too many people have holds on you?" He exhaled again, feeling weighted down to the rooftop. "Everybody wants somethin'. Everybody takes somethin' whether they know it or not."

"I never did until recently," Val said and moved from the ledge to sit in front of Max. "Or if I did I didn't think about how deep they had those hooks until I had to pull them out.  But you're right in that some things you can't ever get back.  And sometimes..." he paused and swallowed once, twice. "Sometimes you find yourself taking without ever meaning to."

Max looked away and over Val’s shoulder. However, instead of hot tar, he could only smell blood, body odor and stale cigarettes.  Instead of the night sky and rooftops, he could only see a broken body, legs spread.  Instead of the beating of his own heart, he could only hear screaming.  "And sometimes there's nothin' you can do to make up for what you took," he said to the girl who still visited his dreams sometimes.

There was a pause.  Every now and then, street-level noise drifted up towards them and floated by.  "You know the worst thing about being a vampire?" Val said suddenly. "You can't get really, really drunk anymore."

"That is something I definitely would miss," Max replied. "Especially since I am feeling the need to get really, really drunk right about now."

He saw Val take a breath and hesitate. "Max, you don't know me and you have no reason to trust me but if you need to get out of town, if you need a place, I know one.  Folks there will keep their mouths shut.  You could take Yvette."

" 'preciate the offer, Val, but the less people I involve in this the better. Believe me, you don't want the attention from either side." Max looked out at what they could see of the skyline over the city. "I'm gonna have to play my cards the best I can." He really did appreciate the offer - odd as it seemed to advertise space and security to someone you'd just met. "Although if I ever really get hard up, I'll let you know. I can always juggle to earn my keep."

"Always nice to have something to fall back on," Val said, not pressing. Like the hooker he'd met, you could only offer. You couldn't make things better for people by force.

"In the meantime, I should probably get back to my place and see if I can pick up some stuff. Unless those agents have it staked out by now." Max looked at Val. "What do you do with your nights?"

Val gave a rough laugh with little humor. "Well, I used to earn my keep as a hustler." He said it without embarrassment or regret. "Nice life if you can stand it but sometimes the payoff is a stone cold bitch," he added bitterly before he shook off the mood and offered up another charming smile. "You looking to change jobs, Max?" he asked with amusement.

Max snorted.  “I think not.  No offense meant.”

“None taken.”  He stood up.  “Maybe I’ll meet you and your ex under better circumstances next time.”  He put no commitment on the idea but left it to float between them.  He put out a hand to help Max up and there was less hesitation this time as Max reached out towards him.  Val turned Max's hands over before the man could pull away and inspected the bloody scrapes. He pulled a clean handkerchief out of his back pocket and pressed it over the worst cut. "I'd keep that on there until the bleeding stops, if I were you - just in case you pass somebody who’s hungry," he cautioned with a straight face.

If he noticed the missing finger on Max’s right hand, he said nothing to Max, but simply pressed the handkerchief into the other man’s fist before moving past him to where a ladder was hooked over the side of the building.  He glanced down. "It's clear."

Val swung over and started to climb down to the ladder.  He stopped just before Max left his line of sight and looked at the other man.  "Weird as it sounds, been a pleasure, Max. Maybe I'll see you around.”  He started to take another step and hesitated again.  _Couldn't hurt._ "If you decide you need that place to hunker down?  Go to Atlanta.  Suburb’s called Little Five Points.  Ask for Andrew McAran at a bookstore there called Lattice. He's a good guy, Max, and while Yvette might surprise him, he won't turn either of you away. See ya!" he added and slipped out of sight.

By the time Max followed him to the edge and looked down the three story drop, Val was gone. 


	2. Strangers in the Night

Val moved, shifting out of the awkward embrace and pulling away. His client was not quite unconscious, but close enough to offer no help as Val shoved the limp body away from his.  He hated the ones who collapsed on him like that and this guy had been flying high even before he came to Val. His pulse was steady enough but Val did no more than assure himself of that before slipping out of the room and motioning for one of the tenders to see to the man while he grabbed a shower.

He needed one - or several.  Some nights weren't so bad but others left him feeling sick and little more than a toy to be used and discarded by whoever chose him down in Madeleine's parlor.  He shivered under the hot water. Some nights it wasn't so bad.  Then there were nights like this.  He wrapped his arms around his chest for several moments, afraid he would be sick, and tried to will away the feeling.

And Madeleine was so fucking  _pleased_  with his performance. _Just like any other trained animal_ , Val thought sourly.  _Give it what it wants so it will perform on cue._ More than anything he wanted to go home to Tevis and let the other man's strong hands, soft words and warm body make him feel like he was worth something - anything - but Tevis was out on business for Madeleine and Val had no idea when he'd be back.  If he was lucky, he might get to see Tevis before sunrise. 

He ran the towel roughly over his skin and grabbed for some clothes without even looking to see what they were. There was a knock at the door as he thrust his arms through his shirtsleeves and Val yelled for the tender to come in.

"Your next--"

"Cancel it," he snapped, jamming his feet into shoes.  "And the next time Mr. Freeman makes an appointment make sure he hasn't done coke in at least a week," he snarled as he shoved past the other man and headed for the stairs.  On the way down, he nearly body-checked another of Madeleine's trained monkeys and his client but didn't even offer a pro forma apology.  A glance up as he turned to enter the parlor let him see the tender watching him, mouth in a thin tight line.  _Yeah, Madeleine's going to hear about this._  Right now, though, Val found it hard to care.

He hated addicts. He could deal with drunks and those that had taken a couple bong hits before showing up for their appointment.  They just made Val sleepy.  However, the serious druggies managed to transmit part of their high through the Bite and it always made him feel sick, made him feel like things were crawling under his skin and the shadowed places in his mind were preparing to swallow him whole.  The secondary high also made it harder for him to maintain control. 

He needed to walk and try to burn off the jittery anger with which Mr. Freeman's coke habit had gifted him.  Val jammed his hands into his pockets and struck out towards the Quarter, hoping the bright lights and music would give him something else to concentrate on.  If he just happened to find a willing snack?  So much the better.

The music and sounds of the Quarter were loud but growing more familiar the longer Val spent in New Orleans.  They joined with the white noise in his head to create a droning background, washing out both the natives hawking drinks or girls and the tourists into an indistinct blur.  He moved faster, not really paying attention to anything around him until he was brought up short by something that jarred him out of his dark thoughts. 

At first he thought he'd hit a wall.  However, when he blinked and the world came back into sharp focus, full of light, color and sound, he realized he’d barreled into a group of young men sporting T-shirts with Greek lettering.  One of them was picking his friend up from the ground and all of them were glaring at him. 

"Sorry," Val muttered, belatedly realizing what must have happened.  A quick look around told him he was close to the Naked Bayou, Cat West and a couple bars.  Another glance showed him more college-age guys on the sidewalk in front of the Bayou and craning their necks over in his direction while motioning for their friends to hurry up. 

The guys in front of him were largely of a type: hair reeking with product to his sensitive sense of smell, expensive jeans and sneakers and heavily muscled.  He caught a glimpse of one guy’s shirt and cursed to himself.  At least some of the thrillseekers looked to be from the university football team. 

The guy and his pal got up.  They looked none too steady on their feet which meant they had probably already been hitting the bars and had decided to check out a titty show.  _Wonderful_ , Val thought.  He was a magnet for people with overindulgence issues tonight. 

"Hey, you little shit!" One of the frat brothers who obviously spent every waking moment in the gym pushed forward.  “Watch where the hell you're going!"

"You could do the same," Val shot back. "Or is putting one foot in front of the other too mentally taxing for you?"  Normally, he just would have shut up and moved on but caution had taken a back seat to his growing bad mood.  He pushed through a small opening between the grouped men and felt a shove to his back that propelled him forward several steps and a few inches closer to the Bayou.

Max was standing outside the Bayou.  He’d sent Jack out to bally so he could work the grind.  It had been like any other night until a bunch of frat boys had tried to distract him so they could get in without paying.  When that hadn’t worked, they’d tried to bribe him.  Max wasn’t above the occasional bribe – a little extra cash in his pocket was never a bad thing – but he was tired and annoyed and still trying to dodge Sammy’s questions so he was in no mood for stupid rich boys and their desire to gawk at tits for less than full price. 

He’d managed to catch the eye of the head bartender, Mike, who’d left the bar to his assistant bartenders for long enough to stand behind Max and glower.  Max had been bracing for a possible fight but that seemed to take the air out of the college guys’ sails and they turned around and stomped off.  One or two of them turned back around to yell epithets at him but he shrugged and turned his attention back to the streets as Mike went back inside.  “Chumps,” he muttered. 

He turned away for a second to take the cover charge from a tourist and, when he turned back, saw the college boys clumped together in a group close to an alley opening. Curious, he stood on his toes for a moment and tried to see what they were doing. Inside the circle, he saw movement. He looked a moment longer and realized with a start that it was Val, the vampire from the roof.

There was a time when Val had carried a knife and he felt the loss of it rather acutely at the moment. It was more for flash than for actual intent to harm but he would have welcomed the showy value of it since most of the frat boys had now enclosed him in a little circle while a few of their friends stood back.  The knife could possibly have guaranteed his exit from this little gladiator drama with little else than a shove and some foul language. 

"No harm, no foul," Val said quietly, keeping his voice low and steady as much for himself as for them. The smallest of them easily outweighed him by seventy-five pounds.  He could smell them, would have sworn to being able to smell their hostility, and the air around them seemed heavier.  He felt weighted down.

"Sidewalk’s not big enough for us and you," the large one – a redhead – snapped. "Maybe you were trying to lift my wallet?" He took a step closer.  Val backed up and nearly tripped over the feet of the guy behind him.

"Because, yeah, that’s obviously what was happening.  You want to hear sorry?  Great.  I’m sorry,” Val said.  His brain told him it was a mistake to keep opening his mouth.  Couldn’t he hear the sarcasm dripping from every word?  Well, yes, he could…but he was rapidly finding out he didn’t care.  Oh, tell me you aren't going to make an issue out of tripping? Did I apologize or was I talking to myself?" Val said. It was a mistake.  They wanted someone to pound on and he was as good a candidate as anyone.

"Maybe you should apologize again," one of the others said.  He and his buddies grinned. 

Val sighed internally.  These guys wanted someone to pound on and he was as good a candidate as anyone.  Another thought sprang to life on the heels of the previous one.  It said he was angry; angrier than he should have been over something so stupid.    _Walk away_ , he told himself, except his mouth wasn't paying any attention. "Well, I would but since you didn't understand it the first time, I'd rather not waste any more of my time," he said with a wide smile and took a step forward.

There was no more talking after that.  Val saw the fist coming and met it.  He’d told Max that he tended to forget that he was much stronger since he’d been turned.  Nevertheless, there were times enhanced strength came in very handy.  He grabbed the fist in his hands and held it until his assailant looked at him in surprise. Then, with one short, swift movement, Val hooked his foot behind the redhead’s knee and sent him crashing to the ground on his back.  Val held his fist a moment longer and then let go, stepping back into a slightly widened circle. 

"Geez, sugar,” he drawled.  “You aren't having a good night, are you?" he drawled. "Will you accept my apology for putting you on your ass?"

The guy helping the redhead up shoved him into someone else’s arms and took a swing.  Val was pretty sure it was the “sugar” that did it.  It was the sugar that did it, he was certain. His opponent had less of the advantage of than his first assailant and Val was able to grab the other man and pull him down to the ground with one hand locked around the guy’s wrist.  He squeezed and thought he could feel bones grind together. 

It might have ended there.  The kid looked scared.  _You should be_ , Val thought and he smiled a smile that would scare the angels.  Unfortunately, concentrating on his victim meant Val made the supreme mistake of letting his back be exposed. A punch to where his kidneys had once been hurt enough to make him snarl and jerk.

The kid's wrist snapped with an audible break.  The second blow caught Val on the jaw. It rocked him, but didn't down him and suddenly Val was one very pissed off vampire and still high on a cocaine afterburn.

"Oh, great," Max muttered. This was just what he needed. Drunk frat boys and fights were bad for business; scared the tourists.  He put two fingers to his mouth and whistled two sharp notes that had Jack jogging back towards the Bayou entrance.  Max handed him the flyers. "Here," he said shortly. "I'll be back." The other man shrugged and Max quickly made his way down the steps and over to the knot of people at the alley’s entrance.

" 'Scuse me, boys, but is there a problem?" he asked, tapping one of them on the shoulder.

"No problem, man," the frat brother in the football T-shirt told him.  Max could hear the words slurring together.  "None of your concern at any rate. My bud here just caught himself a pickpocket."

"If so, that’s a concern for those of us who work here." It was nonsense but enough of a distraction for Max to push farther into the circle.  When he did, he saw Val. He didn’t look good. 

Max had seen people high before but Val looked like he was beyond high.  His eyes glittered and he couldn’t seem to stay still.  He moved back and forth in place and his hands kept opening and closing almost spasmodically.  “B.C., Val!” Max snapped.  To the group of jocks, he said, "I think you guys are mistaken. You're drunk. Go back to your hotel and cool off."

The aura in the small circle stayed tense.  No one moved except Val who continued to bob up and down in position.  Max took a quick look around and saw a few onlookers but nothing that particularly worried him...yet. Belligerent drunks fed off the energy of a crowd and, so far, there wasn't one.

"You all right?" he tossed over his shoulder to Val.  He didn’t get any answer beyond a faint snarl that sent a shiver up his spine.  Basil’s advice, more threat, really, that vampires weren’t supposed to reveal themselves came screaming to the forefront of Max’s brain.  “Relax, Everett," Max tried, hoping Val would get the message. "Not the time or the place." If it came down to a fight, Max would jump in on Val’s side but he also knew the closed-in alley and numerical superiority of their opponents would severely negate any potential advantage he and Val might have.

He half-turned as Val snarled again and didn't see the guy to his left.

As punches started flying, Max had one brief glance of something in Val's face that he hoped wasn't aimed at him before the vampire had whirled in a blur of movement, both hands blocking the meaty hand reaching for Max. Val pulled hard and the frat boy fell like a ton of bricks onto his hands and knees.  Val’s knee connected with the frat boy’s gut and the frat boy fell down flat. 

Max saw Val stagger as two beefy guys rushed him but then his attention was taken by a hand on his shoulder and a fist headed for his face.  The most he could do was to turn his head and the impact caught him on the side of his face. He had a flash of something wet on his skin and a burning sensation as he stepped back and pushed his weight into the guy and sending him off-balance enough to feel the hand momentarily loosen. Once it did, he spun around and finished shoving the frat boy out of the circle; it was enough for a brief moment of respite from being teamed up on and he used it to pull one of the others off of Val and land a quick right to his jaw. "Get up, Val!" he yelled.

Then he was grabbed again and felt something land with the force of a 2x4 in his ribs before he spun to the ground someone landed on top of him. Acting purely on adrenaline, Max managed a knee between the guy’s legs, rolling with him and gaining a shaky standing position as the guy curled up on the ground next to him.  He staggered upright and managed to kick his opponent full-force in the ribs and then the kidneys before another punch sent him staggering again.

In the meantime, Val had managed to get himself on his feet and moving. Arms grabbed him from behind again and Val shoved back, taking him and his attacker backwards and into the side of the building with enough force to dislodge the kid's grip. Another came at him and Val kicked, gaining a height that a ballet dancer would envy. The heavy heel of his boot opened the kid's face from chin to nose, blood suddenly all over his front. He staggered back into Max, who grabbed the guy by the shirt and threw him down into the street on his ass while Val turned on the man behind him, hand closing over the thick neck and pushing him further back into the recesses of the alley. The kid grabbed at his wrist but Val didn't let go, pulling him back and slamming him into the building again and again until he went limp, blood on his throat from where Val's nails had scored the skin.

There was blood on Val.  He could smell it and licked his lips to try and capture more of the teasing coppery scent.   He caught a quick glimpse of Max handily punching out someone.  The heartbeats around him were pounding, a drum corps out of sync. He felt the Hunger uncoil.  He didn’t need to feed but the food was already laid out for him on the ground.  It would be a waste not to eat his fill.

_Eeny-meeney-miney-moe..._  He looked around at the kid slumped against the wall and the one kneeling in front of him, blood streaming over the hands cupped around his nose and mouth.

"Well, since you're offering," Val said softly, eyes glittering and his head buzzing like a swarm of wasps. He was curiously detached, aware of Max and the last of the fight, aware that most of the frat boys had run off, but that was peripheral.  All it meant was that there would be no audience.  It would just be him and his meal. 

He smiled and hauled the kid up by his shirt front.  "Why don't you and I have a little talk?" he said and pulled his hapless victim along, yanking when he stumbled. The rest of the crowd was still watching the fight.

Max buried his fist in the frat boy's stomach and when he bent over in reflex, grabbed his head and slammed it against the brick wall, taking a brief and fierce satisfaction in watching the idiot crumple to the ground. His face burned and stung, he couldn't see too well out of his left eye, there was blood coming from somewhere and his ribs definitely hurt.  He was having some difficulty breathing but figured it was from exertion and adrenaline.  Despite all that, he decided he felt pretty good.  They might have landed punches on him but he'd definitely laid a few of theirs out and one guy wouldn't be bothering his girlfriend for quite a while. As he bent over to try and take another breath, hand at his side, he heard someone call out that the cops were coming and figured this would be a good time to split. One of the few remaining college kids that were still standing grabbed at him half-heartedly before taking off and Max straightened up, wincing.  He spat into the street. _Wouldn't want to have to call mommy or daddy from jail._

That brief thought reminded him that he'd better hightail it out as well and back over to the Bayou. Even looking the way he did, Mike and the rest of the crew would swear he'd been there all evening and there was no way the college guys were going make any kind of report to anyone.  They'd go back to the dorms and keggers and claim they'd wiped the streets with two of the Quarter's denizens.

Max started back but remembered Val. Where had he gone? Val had done him a favor.  The least he could do would be to hide him in the back of the Bayou until the cops had made their perfunctory sweep.  He didn’t see Val in the immediate vicinity and was starting to wonder if the vampire had somehow already slipped away when he heard a noise.

If it had been louder it would have been a scream. As it was, it sounded like the noise an injured animal made and rose in volume even as the sirens started to sound.

Max limped towards the back of the alley, hand still pressed to his side.  He slowed as he drew further in.  “Val?  Hey!” he called softly.  “We gotta get out of here.”  The sound came again.  “You okay?”

A dark shape on the opposite wall revealed itself.  Val had one of the college kids pinned to the side of the building.  “Fuck me,” Max breathed and limped closer.

*****

Val pressed against his victim to keep him in place and prevent him from escaping; another thing that vampire strength was good for.  It made it much easier to prevent your meals from escaping.  The boy still fought, though, and Val frowned even as he pressed his left forearm against the boy’s throat, forcing his chin up.  He was fairly sure he had some bone fractures – if not outright breaks – although feeding should take care of that.  His left knee felt odd, too, which was all the more reason to feed.   He'd heal faster and the pain in his body would be washed away better than a Demerol overdose.

Hunger-driven strength kept the kid's wrists clutched in Val’s hand and locked above his head.  Fear, metallic and rank in the boy’s sweat, told Val his meal wouldn’t be fighting very hard.  He had gone white the first time he’d seen Val’s fangs when Val leaned in to lick the blood from his chin.

"Should watch out for the nights in a strange town," Val hissed, eyes hard and cold. "Pickpockets are the least of your worries.”  Still keeping the kid’s arms locked above his head, he lowered his forearm and traced the vein pulsing in his meal’s throat.  “Such a brave boy. Do you beat up only people smaller than yourself or do you like a challenge now and again?"

He didn't wait for an answer. He didn't really want one and this piece of meat certainly didn't get what people paid good money for. Some part of Val's brain knew he was taking out his earlier anger and disgust on this Neanderthal -- and that part was screaming at him to think about what he was doing. But all Val wanted to acknowledge at this moment was the Hunger, and the fear radiating off this warm body along with his own need brought out by the violent fight.

The kid had started whimpering and then the wail began as Val bent his head. No finesse, no easy, gentle nip this, but hard and fast and deep, hitting the vein immediately and Val almost tore the kid's throat out the rush was so good.

Why did he deny himself this? He had...did ..but at the moment he couldn't think why. He could hear the scream building in choked sobs, every sharp gasp for air the kid made changing the taste, sharpening the sensation and turning it sweet as the fear rose and Val sucked hard, feeling the kid begin to thrash in terror.

That would stop soon enough.  Too soon, unfortunately.

Max stopped in his tracks when he saw Val start to feed.  He'd seen the guy Yvette had botched a feed on and the unwelcome memory of skin and muscle resembling chewed-up hamburger rose to the surface, causing him to gag.  But it was the absolute keening despair of the kid's wail combined with the rampant, uncaring hunger he could see in Val that made him want to run the opposite direction and forget everything he'd ever seen, heard or learned about vampires in the last 48 hours. Still, even as he shifted his weight to take a step back, Max knew he couldn't do it. The kid may have been a rich, overbearing waste of oxygen but he didn't deserve to go out like this.

He walked closer, forcing each step until he was an arm's length from the young vampire. "Val!" he said sharply. "Let the kid go! Come on!" It was apparent that Val didn't even hear Max.  He continued feeding and Max could see the victim's eyes fluttering shut. _Son of a **bitch**_.  And here he’d thought getting stuck between Sammy and the Feds was the worst his life could get.  He mentally moved them to number two as he considered getting in between an obviously angry and high vampire and his meal.  He didn’t want to leave either of them but he had no idea what a truly pissed-off vampire might be capable of doing. Max liked his neck un-perforated and his blood supply intact.

He sucked in a breath that stopped well short of filling his lungs as his ribs protested.  "You don't want to do this,” he said quickly, urgently, with another fast look towards the street.  He breathed a quick prayer that no cop would be overly curious and decide to check out the alley.  “The kid's going to be just another hook in you." Val continued to feed and Max’s stomach turned over at the sucking noise he could hear. 

Reason wasn’t working and he was running out of time both for the kid and for any hope of getting out of here unseen.  In desperation, he grabbed Val’s arm, drew back his leg and kicked as hard as he could at Val’s knee.  He hoped the momentary pain would act like a dog’s shock collar and at least break Val out of his feeding trance.  Max could only hope Val wouldn’t decide Max made a much better meal. 

He felt himself connect with Val’s knee and the next thing he knew, he was sailing through the air and landing.  Hard.  Max sucked in a breath out of instinct and let out a strangled moan at the red-hot agony now flaring up his side.  As he lay there trying to clear his vision and remember how to breathe so it wouldn’t hurt, he felt something warm and wet soaking into his T-shirt.   

*****

The pain exploded through Val's leg.  He jerked and struck out blindly, hearing a cry, then released his meal and dropped to the ground to cradle his leg.  The pain was far stronger than the hunger and in a brief moment of clarity Val recalled what had happened. He looked to his right and saw the kid lying motionless on the ground.  He was pale but Val could still hear his heart beating – strongly, thank God.  The neck wound was still bleeding sluggishly, though and Val knew the boy would bleed to death if left alone without help much longer. Christ!  It was no better a death than the one Val had been close to giving him. How had he let the drugs, the disgust, take him this far?  He had better control than this!

The potential corpse to his right told him otherwise.

He couldn’t get his left leg to work properly so he all but crawled to the kid.  He took the bloody face in his hands and bent to cover the tear in his throat.  The Hunger tried to claim ascendance and he brutally forced it down while he closed the wound.  When he was done, Val leaned back and hoped to God the kid was drunk enough to think this had all been a bad dream. _Lucky him_ , Val thought.  He knew _he_ was guaranteed to have nightmares.

He checked the kid’s pulse again. It was strong even if a little fast and that was better than the alternative.  Val watched until his near-victim’s eyes began to flutter which meant he was coming around.  _Time to clear out._   He shifted and managed to get to his feet, weight carried mostly by his right leg.  His left knee kept feeling like it wanted to shift under the skin.  As he shuffled in a slow half-circle to gain a better idea of his surroundings, he caught sight of another body lying close by.

He limped over to kneel cautiously beside the other man.  The pain from his knee was clearing his head a bit and memory was coming back in snatches.  "You....you fucking idiot.”  He remembered Max’s voice coming in and out like bad radio reception saying something about hooks…and someone crying out in pain.  _Fuck me_ , he cursed as memory finally supplied exactly what he’d done to Max _._

He could smell fresh blood here as well and hoped to God it wasn’t his doing.   “Can you get up?" Max looked to be in a world of hurt and Val added that to the growing list of things he needed to atone for. "Might be best to get up before our friend there wakes up completely or someone out on the street gets curious."

"I'm fine," Max wheezed, pulling back a bit from Val’s outstretched hand.  Trash crumpled underneath him. "No problem at all." _Shit._ Yvette had been more pathetic than anything else.  This guy was dangerous, for fuck's sake.

"I swear I won't hurt you," Val said, meeting Max's eyes and not liking the glimmer of fear he saw there. "It's gone...the Hunger.  It’s not the smartest cure I've ever seen” he added, trying for a nonchalant shrug and sure he was failing miserably.  “But it was effective. Thanks," he added softly.

"No problem," Max managed to repeat before a muscle spasm in his chest stole his breath and left him panting shallowly when it finally eased up.  If he held his breath and didn't move, he could talk in something that approximated normal speech. All his instincts, though, were telling him he needed to move - and quickly.  That was going to be problematic at best and downright impossible at worst if the pain in his chest was any indication.   He had no choice but to accept Val's help.  “Just…” he panted.  _Go away._   “Go easy.”

Val moved slowly and carefully.  He felt Max flinch and pull away from him slightly as he got a grip under Max’s arms and lifted him upright.  They tottered together for a few moments until Val managed to get them stable through sheer force of will.  He’d already injured Max and wasn’t going to do anything to further harm the man.  He heard Max take shallow breaths, hitching on the intake, as he moved them out the back end of the alley and did his best to avoid any garbage or other obstacles lying around.  Tripping wouldn’t help either of them at this rate.  A glance showed him they were still close to the center of the action and Val figured he could maneuver them somewhere safe as long as his leg didn’t give out.  "Where to, kemosabe?

Max gasped as the muscles in his chest tightened like a vise again.  His lungs burned like he had held his breath too long underwater,  "Go to...the Bayou," he got out, waves of pain radiating down the right side of his chest.  Everything hurt even with Val’s help.  "Back door," he cautioned as Val began to slowly limp. "Don't want...the cops to...see us.". His lips quirked. "Don't think…they…have windowless cells," he said before taking a slow, cautious, and _very_ small breath.

The two of them continued down through the side street. Max directed and tried to do most of his own walking since Val was obviously injured too. Once they got there, he let Val help him lean against the wall and directed the vampire to pound at the steel door until someone opened it.  “Girls…get ready in…the back,” he wheezed.  Maggie opened it and Val didn’t offer any explanation other than than there had been a fight and they needed to get inside. 

“Tell Mike…and Jack.”  Max stopped and concentrated on drawing in a breath.  He cringed, one hand going to his right side as his expanding lungs pushed at injured muscles.  “Back out soon.  Clean up.”  Motioning for Val to follow as Maggie left to deliver her message, Max managed to walk nearly normally until they were both in the men's locker room. Once the door was shut, he leaned against it heavily, wanting nothing more than to slide down to the floor and stay there.  _Come on,_ he reminded himself.  _You felt ten times worse after..._

"Max? You should go to the hospital," Val said. He knew the way Max was breathing and how he was holding his torso meant that he had at least bruised or cracked ribs – possibly worse. His own were sore but the blood he had taken was already working its healing and he didn’t really notice them unless he twisted at the waist.  It was the same with his leg. He wasn't quite up to running hurdles but it was holding him. Max, though, had a black eye already starting to pop with lurid colors.  There was blood on his face from the cut on his cheek and Val could still smell blood as well.  It was slightly stale but with an undertone of fresh seeping through.  As he continued to catalogue Max’s injuries, he realized there was blood on the dark T-shirt.  He hadn’t seen it before in the alley and even now it only showed up as a darker, wet spot on the material. He looked around and saw the first aid kit on the wall.

"Huh?" Max said in response to Val's voice. "Fine." _Sure. Yeah._ Max knew he was going to have a hell of a shiner for a few days but that cut on his cheek had finally stopped stinging at least and, he admitted to himself, it had stopped bleeding. He didn't think Val would hurt him but he really didn't know that much about vampires, either.  How much blood was enough?

Val returned with the box, popping the lid and rummaging through the contents. He found bandages, a couple of Ace wraps and packages of gauze plus aspirin and a field issue suture kit. He wondered if some ex-military types worked at the Bayou. His father kept one of these at home.  He was a little surprised to find a fully stocked kit in the middle of a break/dressing room in a strip club – especially one with dented lockers, mirrors with several bulbs out and a couch that looked like it was in the last throes of advanced leprosy.  But, he guessed, being able to patch up the talent was a bigger priority than interior decorating for this place.

"Max?" This time he planted himself in front of the other man, schooling his features into something he hoped conveyed a desire to help and not that he saw Max as dessert. "Take your shirt off," he said quietly.

Max stared at him.  "Why?" It was hard to concentrate.  He could grab on to one or two thoughts but others seemed to shatter into millions of tiny pieces when he tried to follow their thread to any type of conclusion.  He kept gulping in short, quick breaths.  “What’s wrong with my shirt?”  He looked down.  “I don’t see anything.” 

"You are bleeding from somewhere. You need to see a doctor." Max just stared at him again and Val sighed. "I need you to take it off so I can have a look. You just kept me from sucking that kid dry so I would really hate to have you bleed to death in front of me for _no fucking reason_ ," he finished harshly.  He took a closer look.  Max’s eyes looked glazed over.  Val was sure shock was probably playing a part in that as were Max’s apparent breathing issues.

“Max, look at me,” he said.  “I know it hurts but I need you to try and take a few deep breaths for me.  Like this.”  Val demonstrated a deep, slow, even breath.  He thought if the whole situation wasn’t so ludicrous, it might actually be funny: the undead showing someone how to breathe.  He waited and Max followed him after several heartbeats, face twisting in a grimace of pain as he did.  After a few more breaths, Val saw Max blink and some recognition, some sense of awareness, seemed to animate Max’s eyes this time.

"This is probably just some really feeble attempt on your part to get me in a compromising situation, isn't it?"

Val stared and then snorted a laugh.  Relief that Max had managed to speak without sounding like an emphysema victim on oxygen flooded him.  "Nice looking as you are, Max?  It really isn't my style to enroll people in my church. I have no designs on your bod - or on your blood supply at the moment," he added seriously, addressing what he thought was Max's real concern. "Now, are you going to let me help or should I go find someone else?"

"No!" Max responded more sharply than he'd intended. Now that his attention had been called to it, he could feel sticky wetness underneath his hand and he reminded himself to keep a tight rein. All he needed to do was just stall Val long enough for the guy to go. Then he could check out what was wrong and try to patch it up.  No doctors needed.  "It's all right. You helped me out and I helped you out. We're even."

"Appreciative as I am for the assist – and I am – if not on the street, then in the alley," Val said a little hesitantly, "you probably should have just let them beat the shit out of me. I doubt I could have taken them all and sometimes getting my head cracked against the pavement reminds me that I am just as prone to stupidity as anyone else." He offered a faint smile. "Not to mention that a good dose of pain seems to make me think a little clearer from time to time." He wasn't sure if he would have killed the kid.  It had been close, though, and the uncertainty twisted his insides up into tight little knots.  The dull thump of a bass line reached even through the closed door and Val found himself comparing it to Max’s heartbeats.  It was weirdly comforting to be able to time when Max’s heart would beat next.  The occasional catcalls and other forms of audience participation were like nails on a chalkboard, though.

"Nah," Max said, trying to remember to breathe normally. "You mighta made a mess in front of my club. Makes it harder to get customers in that way." He glanced down at the hand he was holding over his ribs and could see red staining his palm. _Damn it_. Nobody here knew. He'd made sure nobody anywhere ever knew because he'd never told another soul - not even the police who'd come to question him about the girl's body that had been dumped at the emergency room along with him. He'd played dumb, told them he couldn't remember anything.  The doctors had reluctantly corroborated that memory loss might be a possibility.   Still, he knew they thought he’d at least been party to it or done it himself, could see it in the way they looked at him when they came to change his dressings or bring meds. When he'd finally walked out of that place, Max had himself convinced he wasn't worth anything more than the carny trash the cops had said he was.

He pushed past Val and sat down on the old vinyl couch. Being able to brace his back against something eased some of the pressure building in his chest and he was able to draw in slightly bigger breaths. "It'll be OK. I'm sure it's just a scratch."

Val stared at the blood smeared on the door Max had been leaning against and then back at Max. "Uh _huh_. Well, I could just wait for you to pass out on me.  I’m guessing it’ll take about five more minutes.”  Max already looked pale. He must've had the same macho bullshit instruction about men and pain as Val had gotten from his father.

"You always such an annoying little shit?" Max asked.

"When I want to be.”  Val drew closer to crouch in front of Max.  “Given what I am, I'm not likely to pass out at the sight of a cut or bruise." He pushed his hair back off his face. "It won't be the first time I've patched somebody up.  Hooking isn't the safest profession in the world, you know. Anything shy of an artery I can probably take care of and if it were that bad?  This conversation would probably already be over.”

"That's comforting - although I'd like to think I'm smart enough to know if I'm dead or not."  Small shivers were running through his frame and he thought he could smell the combination of rubbing alcohol and disinfectant heavy in the air. 

"Don't count on it," Val said flatly and stood up. "I didn't."

The tone was just hollow enough not to come out angry but Max didn't want to think too hard about whatever emotion did go with the comment.  "I'll keep it in mind," he said absently.  Max squinted up at Val.  “You’re really not going to go away until I let you play doctor, are you?”

Val shook his head.  “I’ll even find you a lollipop for after if you want.”

Max looked at him so long that Val wondered if the other man had gone unconscious with his eyes open.  “Grape,” Max finally said.

Val nodded and helped Max pull the bloody T-shirt over his head before crouching again to use the shirt to wipe at the worst of the blood staining Max's side. When he did, Val realized why Max had been reluctant to accept Val’s assistance.

The scar startled him. It was massive and he wondered how Max had even survived whatever had caused it. Something had opened him up good. A quick glance told him everything at least seemed to be in place but he didn’t try to inspect it any further.  Instead, he shifted his gaze to search for the cut that was making all the mess. "You got stuck," he commented when he found it.  It was right into the fleshy tissue below Max's ribs and across his back in a shallow gash. It was nasty-looking and probably painful, just scoring the fatty tissue under the skin. Not that there was a lot of extra flesh.

He pressed the shirt against the wound and Max hissed.  “Sorry,” Val said perfunctorily.  He needed the bleeding to slow a bit before he could work on it. The scent of it was a little distracting and he fiercely quelled his instincts.  As he did, he gently palpated the already livid bruising and was relieved that he didn’t feel anything other than swelling and didn’t see any dents that might indicate broken ribs.  He glanced up and saw Max was still breathing somewhat shallowly but with less difficulty than before.

"Sit back," he said, wadding the shirt up and pressing it against the skin again.  Max’s body weight would hold it in place.  He rummaged in the first aid kit, pulling out antiseptic and gauze and the suture kit. "I can bandage it or suture it. Your choice. Course it won't be as good as a pro job, but I am cheaper."

"Well, hey, we've gone this far, we may as well go all the way,” Max said.  Once the words hung out there between them, he realized it might not have been the best thing to say.  He was letting a _vampire_ fix him up.  Why, he couldn’t say.  Max really had no concrete idea why he wanted to trust Val so much.  Val hadn’t done him wrong yet but, then again, there really hadn’t been time to do anything other than exchange names.  Still, there was something about the other man that Max liked on an instinctive level; something that told him he and Val had visited some of the same places and that alone was rare enough in Max’s life.

“Sorry," he muttered as the silence began to stretch out. "Didn't mean  nothin'."

A smile eased Val's features and his eyes sparked with humor. "Not to worry, sugar. I’m taken," he chuckled.

Val almost offered a little extra as he set the threading but he doubted Max would agree. A little saliva would not only help the wound stop hurting but it would probably slow the bleeding as well.  He just didn't quite see Max agreeing to let a vampire’s mouth that close to anything on his body that might bleed. "Lay down whatever way feels comfortable and you can still breathe," Val directed, already swabbing at the bloodied skin. Val bit his lip to keep from swearing as the rest of the scar was revealed. "You, my friend, must be part cat to have survived that," he said softly and eased his touch a bit to become gentle rather than efficient.

"Just too damn stupid to die when I should have," Max mumbled as he cautiously moved to lay his forearms against the arm of the couch and rest his head on them.  Trying to stretch out completely hurt too much so he drew up his knees towards his chest and concentrated on a slow in-and-out rhythm to try and relax.  Shutting his eyes, he tried to ignore both the pain and Val. The first was easier than the second.

Flooding the top of the first aid kit with a pool of alcohol, Val dropped the suture and thread in while he cleaned out the cut with peroxide.  Max jumped a little at Val’s touch and Val could see Max forcibly relax his muscles when he touched Max’s skin with the peroxide-soaked gauze for the second time.  That was enough to move Val to a decision he knew Max might not agree to if Val explained it to him.

He shifted, setting his back to Max to block the other man's view as he picked up the suture. "Take as deep a breath as you can," Val said and watched the rise and fall of Max’s chest as he did so.  His hand strayed towards the small of Max’s back with its warm skin and tense muscles.  He pulled away at the last moment.  If he already thought Max wouldn’t appreciate what he was about to do, Val was even more sure Max wouldn’t be grateful for any touch that wasn’t directly related to wound care and it had been hard enough to get him to agree to that.

A quick glance told him Max’s eyes were still shut.  Val licked his hand and brushed it across the wound.  It was gross if he thought about it but a vampire’s saliva was the closest thing he had to a topical painkiller.  He used the gauze before brushing his hand over the wound once more, quickly following it with the first stitch.  Max didn't even flinch.

"Breathe out," he said and watched as Max's sides relaxed and the line of his spine softened. He worked carefully.  It wouldn’t be medical school quality but it would close the cut and help it to cleanly heal.  "So what happened?” he asked when he had to work near Max’s scar.  “Tell me it’s not an old football injury."

"It was an accident," Max said after a pause.

"With what? A loan shark?" Val asked in disbelief.  He finished up the last few stitches and grabbed some gauze and tape.  As he covered the wound, he said, “Max, there are only two kinds of scars in the world. The ones we talk about like trophies and the ones we hide like loony relatives.”  He added one last piece of tape.  “Here.  Sit up," he directed and helped Max back into an upright position.  “Can you call off for the rest of the night?”

Max’s raised eyebrow was the answer.  “It may not be much,” Max said, “but I prefer living indoors.  Jobs help pay the rent and all that.”

Val rolled his eyes.  He looked back into the first aid kit and rooted around for the Ace bandage he’d seen earlier.  “Don’t think you’ve broken any although I bet your chest hurts like a bitch.”  Finding it, he pulled the clasps off and started to unroll it enough to get a lead section going.  “Not supposed to wrap ribs – keeps you from breathing right.  If you’re hell bent on going back to work, though, this might at least help keep you upright until closing.  Just remember to take it off before you go to sleep.” 

He motioned for Max to slightly lean forward so he could more easily bring the bandage from back to front.  When he touched the scar, Max jumped and banged into Val, who ended up sitting down hard on the rickety coffee table.   "Christ! I am not trying to cop a feel here!" Val snapped as he picked up the stretchy bandage once again.

"Who did this?" he asked in a gentler tone of voice.  "Tell me it's not the same guys you work for.  You’re not that stupid from what I know. Of course, I could be wrong. You did try to jump between a vampire and his lunch," he said, raising an eyebrow. Outside the music had changed – not as heavy a bass beat but something that sounded more like metal and rap mixed together.  Either way, it was setting his teeth on edge and it didn’t have the steady beat Max’s heart had provided.

Max leaned slowly back against the couch, bracing himself. Everything still hurt but not as much and the bandage felt supportive. "Thanks. You're pretty good with this stuff. Beats Jimmy in the back of an RV pourin' vodka over your leg.”  At Val’s look, Max added slightly defensively, “It’s alcohol.  Maybe not rubbing alcohol but it’s alcohol.”

"Guess he was a graduate of the John Wayne School of Medicine," Val commented while he stowed the supplies in the case and wiped up any stray blood spots or spatters.  "Tilt-A-Whirls," he repeated as he wiped his hands off.  As he sat down on the floor, Val stretched his legs out and noticed a rip in the left knee of his jeans for the first time. He didn't need to look to know the flesh beneath was torn as well. Little blood stained the dark denim and that was just as well.  He had a real aversion to looking at his own near-bloodless wounds. He didn't need to be reminded that under the external normalcy of his appearance there really was mostly what seemed to be a well-preserved corpse. "Now there's a pleasure from days gone by. How'd that happen?"

"Carnivals. Used to work 'em." His voice trailed off and Val could almost see him physically attempt to shake off the memory that was rising to the surface. He waited patiently even though he wanted to press Max and was rewarded when the man continued.  “Was a way to get out of Dodge.  Or at least New Jersey.”

“I didn’t think you were entirely from around here but you don’t do bad,” Val said, more to keep Max talking than anything.  “Still, you’ve definitely got some ‘fuhgeddaboutit’ hiding in there.”

“But my ‘y’all’ is a thing of beauty now,” Max said softly, head back against the couch and eyes closed.  Val’s voice was an anchor.  It kept the memories at bay, kept the radio that had been playing that night low, dispelled some of the scent of pot and spilled beer in the air along with the acrid scent of cigarette smoke. 

"Yo, Max.”  Max opened his eyes to see Val standing in front of him and holding a soda can out to him.  "Don't go into shock on me, man." His voice was insistent and Max found himself automatically holding out his hand and accepting the soda.

"Drink it,” Val ordered.  “Didn't you ever give blood at the Red Cross? You get cookies." He shrugged.  “No time to bake so soda’s the best I can do.”  His gaze dropped to Max's chest again. "That's an old scar. How old were you?"

"Seventeen," Max answered.  He obediently sipped at the drink and then set it on his thigh.  He fixed his eyes on the wall. "And so very stupid.  Not many rules to follow, y’know?  Don’t get in anyone else’s business, don’t fuck up someone else’s game and when the trucks leave?  All debts are paid.” 

“Sounds kinda like my line of work,” Val said with a small smile.  “Just change it to don’t pick up tricks on another hooker’s corner and when the john leaves?  Make sure you have the cash.”

“Started out as a back yard boy,” Max said.  “Didn’t know much but havin’ another body to throw out there…’specially one that they knew wasn’t gonna complain about shit probably seemed like a good deal to them.  But I worked.  Had a guy who kept me around and showed me how to fix shit so I’d be more valuable.”  He turned the can around in his hands.  Jimmy had been good to him.  Helped him learn the ropes.  Introduced him to the booster.

Except the booster had been Charlie.

He played with the can tab for a moment.  “We were dropping the awnings.  Gig was done.  Time to move on.  ‘Cept there was time for a party before we headed out.”

Val nodded.  There was always time for a party.  He'd made time for several at times he shouldn’t.  He pushed back memories of his last unscheduled party.  “Something go wrong?” he asked.  “You get hurt?

Max laughed harshly.  “You could say that.”  The rap-metal hybrid song had been replaced by something electro-pop and full of an auto-tuned lead vocal.  Someone pounded on the door and both of them sharply swung towards it, Max hissing as his torso protested the unplanned movement.

Val put a hand out to keep Max where he was.  “Out in a minute!” he hollered.

“Hurry it up!” came a feminine voice.  “Some of us got a life to live and want to get out of here to do it.”

Val felt his hand move as Max took a breath.  “So go, cher!” he hollered and immediately grabbed his side.  “Mother _fuck_!” he breathed.

“My frickin’ clothes are in there!”

“Fifteen minutes,” Val hollered.  There was silence but Val could still hear her breathing on the other side of the door. 

“Fine,” she yelled.  “But you better be out of there by then.”

Max had leaned back again by this point.  “She’ll find some guy to buy her a drink,” he said.  “We’re good for a bit.  Help me up.”

“Finish your story,” Val countered.

“Where’s my lollipop?” Max demanded. 

“I’ll bring it by tomorrow.”

Max stared at Val and then sighed.  “Not much of a story,” he said.  He looked over at the wall, the battered lockers, the door; anything to keep from looking at Val.  He didn’t want to see the disgust in the vampire’s face that Max saw every time he looked in the mirror.  “When you’re packin’ up, people come around ‘cause they know there’s going to be a party.  There was a girl there.  ‘Bout my age, I think.  She didn’t seem much like the other show ho’s and I always…”  He swallowed.  “Always thought she just figured she could come by and party for a bit before sneaking back into the house before her Mom and Dad found out she’d been gone.”  Pretty girl, Max remembered.  Long blond hair, nice body. 

“Night went on.”  A rueful half-smile appeared on his lips.  “I was pretty wasted.  Lots of party favors as long as you put in your share.  By that point, I was mostly just wandering around or sitting down and staring at the pretty colors.”

Val snorted out a laugh.  He remembered that well.  Missed it sometimes, too.  Oblivion was a precious gift once you couldn’t reach it anymore.

“I guess…” Max started again.  “I guess things got out of hand.  She met…a guy.” 

He felt raw and dropped his gaze to his lap.  Just speaking about it brought up memories Max had done his best to bury through denial, through drugs, through alcohol, through whatever way he could manage over the years.  Right now, it was too easy to look up and see the faces from that night, conjured up like nightmares that were just sitting at the edge of his vision and waiting for the right combination of words to bring them into being. 

The only thing that didn’t fit in the scene was Val. Val hadn’t been there and the other man distorted the shape of the nightmares hovering nearby, holding them back from sinking their claws into Max once again.  Max chanced a look at Val and saw nothing except what might be interest and concern.  He moved his gaze up enough to see Val’s hands folded in front of him and concentrated on the shape and reality of them to avoid being dragged under.

“Guy she met wasn’t…real nice,” he said.  “Had my own run-ins with him.  She said no and things got rough.  Next thing I knew?  I heard some—“ Max stopped as his throat closed and coughed.  Nothing happened and he could still feel something there so he tried to clear it again and realized he couldn’t breathe. 

Panic shot through him and it felt like electricity was shooting through his arms and legs.  There wasn’t any air.  He was going to die.  Max’s vision began to gray out at the edges and the nightmares started to close in with their claws out.

Except…Val’s hand was suddenly on his.  Val was saying something – Max could see his lips moving through the haze clouding his vision.  He tried to concentrate.  He needed to tell Val to run away before the nightmares took him down too.  Max felt Val’s hand tighten on his and then…

He could breathe.  He sucked in a breath and immediately twisted in pain while still gripping the lifeline of Val’s hand.  His vision slowly began to clear and the nightmares retracted their claws.

Val watched carefully as Max took a breath and the color started to come back into his face.  He waited until he heard Max take several careful and slow breaths before he breached the quiet between them.  “What happened?” he asked softly.

"I went to see..." Max continued after a moment.  "He’d raped her and …I don't know how but…she was dead.”   She’d been laying there like a Raggedy Ann doll one of his foster sisters had thrown on to the ground during a temper tantrum.  “All…broken.” 

"I, uh, I guess I freaked. Started yelling that she was dead and we were gonna get put in jail for killing her.”   He finally pulled his hand away from Val’s and rubbed his eyes.  “Fuck!” Max whispered harshly.  “Shoulda just kept my damn mouth shut.”

“The scar?” Val asked in the same quiet tone.  “Came from that?”

"They were tryin' to decide what to do with her and then one of 'em asked what they were going to do about me. How were they gonna keep me from talking?"  The words were spilling out of him, fast and hard, now that the nearly decade-strong dam had burst.  "I was so high it was hard to fight back. We hadn't taken down the rollercoaster track yet so they hauled me up there and held me over the side. Nobody had to know. It would just be…an accident,” he murmured.

Val understood now the reaction he'd seen on the roof. He'd chalked it up to Max's near fall then but this was older.  His comment about "previous experience" made sense now as it hadn't before. "And you feel guilty," The last he understood better than Max could ever know.

Max was shaking so hard Val reacted instinctively, reaching out without worrying about what the other man would think and gripping his upper arms. "Max,” he said and waited until the other man was looking at him.  “She was _dead_.  There wasn't anything you could have done. You aren't falling now. You lived through it. What happened?"

"I don't remember," Max said, looking away again. "I hit the first trestle and fuckin'  _felt_  my finger come off, then I hit the edge of a metal bar we'd jimmied onto there to support part of the structure. Felt like it went through me. The next thing I remember was someone yelling at me to tell them my name. Did I know where I was? They'd taken and dumped me at an emergency room. Me and...the body." He couldn't stop the words now  if he'd tried.  "The cops wouldn't stop asking me questions. I told 'em over and over how I didn't know anything. Either they finally believed me or just got tired of me.”  He shrugged.  “Turned 18 while I was in there.  Since they said they couldn’t charge me, wanna know how I celebrated?  Signed myself out against medical advice and got the hell out.”  Out.  Out of Texas at least in a physical sense but trapped in a body and mind that had been forever changed.

Val understood the terror and the triggering memories.  He’d lived them too. "They killed her and they tried to kill you too.  Accident, my ass.”  He spoke sharply, giving Max a shake at the same time.  "Nothing you did or didn't do made you deserving of that," he said and touched the scar lightly, right at the sternum. He didn't let the touch linger. "Not then, not now," he said, absolutely.

Max shook his head. "I can still see her, y'know? I used to see her a lot. For a long time, I was afraid to go to sleep because she'd be there as soon as I closed my eyes, asking me for help. It was almost enough to make me get back on the stuff."

Val forced himself to keep looking at Max although he desperately wanted to look away.  The self-disgust and pain in Max’s eyes mirrored what Val felt every day.  This was cutting to close to his own fears and nightmares.  _Oh, Max, man.  She won't let you go 'till you cut her loose. Maybe not even then..._ Marcus hadn't.   

"What'd you do after?" he asked, sitting back and dropping his hands to his thighs.

"Traveled around. Found another carnival and signed on. Kept myself out of sight." Max shrugged again and then pulled himself out of Val’s grasp even though the move made him wince in pain and catch his breath.  “Just went back to being carny trash and an accomplice to murder.” 

Max's self-loathing hit Val like a glimpse in a hated mirror. He saw Max start to draw back, withdraw and he reached out like lightning to grip the other man's wrist, holding up the hand with the missing finger. "You saved my....you kept me from killing that kid. You said we're even. We're not. Not even close. Carny trash is just what people who don't understand that life call you. You aren't any better or worse than anyone else. Maybe you could have helped her if you hadn’t been stoned.  Maybe not.  Or maybe your ‘friends’ would have done a better job and you’d be dead.  And you've paid for her death, for your...indecision.  Not cowardice, Max. Indecision," he said, holding Max’s hand up in their line of sight. "You helped out Yvette.  That's one life and the kid in the alley makes two. There's probably more, aren't there? I'd say you're paying the debt."

Val let Max’s hand go and abruptly stood up.  "And being accomplice to a murder isn't the same as being a murderer," he said roughly.  He tried to draw in a breath of his own.  He didn’t really need it but his emotions did.

Max stared. He'd heard the words but the ideas contained in them had become so foreign to him that he was afraid to even believe that Val had meant them in earnest.  The belief he was nothing was something that had been easily cultivated and its roots went deep.  "I just helped out Yvette because she needed it. She was in bad shape and didn't know what to do." He offered a half-smile. "You looked like you could use a hand tonight."

"You got _lucky_ tonight,” Val hissed.  “I could just have as easily broken your neck and killed that kid anyway. The only thing that kept you both from ending up dead was that I was angry, not hungry. It was stupid and suicidal." His voice was hard and flat. "I am really glad you did it but don't do it again.  Please.”  He paused.  He hadn’t meant the last to come out as begging as it sounded.  “I don't have that many friends that I can afford to bury them. And what little is left of my soul won't survive many more deaths besides my own.” 

He needed to get out.  He couldn't take Max's undeserved guilt on top of his own which was also unintentional but just as sharp.  He stood up and headed towards the door.  “I’ll let someone know we’re done and they can come in and change their body glitter or whatever the fuck it is.”

"Hey, wait a second." Cursing and trying to hold his breath at the same time, Max pulled himself up from the couch and caught up with Val just as he started to open the door. Without thinking, he put out his arm to hold it shut. "Son of a bitch!" he cursed again. "Some medic. You’re gonna make me pull out my stitches."

It was a gesture and had Max stopped to think about it, he would have realized that holding the door shut against a vampire was a pointless waste of energy. But he wasn't thinking of Val as a vampire anymore. The fear of Val was gone, erased in those long moments of sharing the words for an older, more potent fear.

"Then sit down and don't strain," Val said evenly.  Now it was his turn to not look at Max. "Better yet?  Go home and sleep," he said. "For a week if you can manage it."

"Look, you can't just do this and leave. If..." How did Max say this? He'd been alone a long time.  He liked it. _No_ , Max told himself. _I’m used to it_. And he was starting to see there was a difference. "If we're not even, then explain to me what's goin' on. How do you know so much about how I feel? And why do I get the idea you've been through it, too?"

"Max..." Val was not up to this.  He hadn't been able to turn away while Max had ripped himself apart just minutes before.  But what Max had done or not done for that dead girl was so far removed from what Val had done even if it cut as deeply into his soul as that trestle had cut into Max's body. "What's going on is what I am..." he said, settling for a half-truth and praying it would be enough.  "I feed off other people," he said with a bitter, dry chuckle. "It's how I survive. I understand how you feel because I know what it's like to be thought of as less than acceptable because of what I do for a living. It didn't matter that I literally worked my ass off. I was still a whore and if I got beat up or roughed up or not paid then I deserved it. Until I believed it like you believed it. Like you still believe it. It was a lie then and it is now. For both of us."

Max listened but there was a subtle difference to the words now; a sour note. The force Val had put into the words when he was saying them to Max was gone. "If neither of us deserve to be thought of as trash,” he said slowly, “why is it you seem to change your mind when you're talking about yourself?”  He thought for a moment and then added, “And committing murder?"

Max wasn't going to let go of it. "Because I meant it when I said being an accomplice to murder isn't the same as being one. I've been both.”  Val could hear his voice had gone harsh and flat. "And not because of indecision or by accident." His throat closed up and he shook his head. "It doesn't matter. It can't be undone. You can only go on. That scar...you can hide it or not.  Mostly I don't have a choice about hiding what I am. My only choice is to control it or not. If I don't, people die. People I care about die. It’s that simple."

"At least you've had people care about you." Max took a shallow breath. Although the pain was duller, he still hurt. But this was important, though if you asked him, Max probably wouldn't have been able to say why.  All he could say is he felt a need to get this figured out, for the echoes in his head to stop if only for a little while. "I don't recall anybody that I can really talk about the same way you just did."

"Lucky?  Yeah, I guess I guess I am," Val said softly. "I have people I care about but I am a _vampire_ , Max. Do you get this at all?”  He made a fist and reached up to knock it softly against Max’s forehead twice before putting his arm back down.  “I don't think of myself as trash anymore but I need blood to survive. And I am going on the only way I know how...the only way I can."

Max swallowed.  The idea of vampires – even one like Val – still didn’t rest easy with him.  Still, with what he’d seen tonight, he couldn’t find it in him to believe that Val was some completely heartless killer who would as soon feed on him as look at him.  There was something about Val that grabbed at Max.  He didn’t know what and he had to admit he didn’t necessarily like it but it kept drawing him in to the other man’s orbit in a way that felt right, felt like he should be there.  "What you did can't be undone,” he said.  “Same way I can't go back.   I could’ve come out of the damn thing scot-free but I'm always gonna carry scars even if nobody else ever sees them. All of us do. Me.  Yvette.  You."

Val studied the floor for a long moment as he nodded. Max was right.  How the hell did some ex-carny, strip club bouncer start becoming the mirror into what he hoped was left of his soul? "Doing nothing can cost. Does cost. You could have done nothing to help Yvette. You could have done nothing on the street out there or in the alley. You don't have to talk about people to care about them," he said and lifted his eyes again. "You just have to care and you do - despite your best intentions." His mouth quirked in a small smile. "I am glad I hauled your ass up on the roof, though.  Maybe it leveled a little bit of my own debt."

"Saving my ass from falling to the pavement below goes quite a long way. I've already learned I don't bounce well." For a moment the two of them stared at each other before a half-laugh and a grin appeared on Max's face.

Val just shook his head, amused. _Bad joke. Very bad._   He found himself grinning anyway.

"What happened?"

It was said so quietly, Val almost thought he didn't hear it. _Fine._ So maybe if Max knew there was a huge difference between inaction and willful harm, he'd ease off. Val was surprising himself. He had told no one in the four years since he'd been brought over – not even in Confession.

"There's a church in Atlanta called All Saints. Has one of those big old cemeteries with the family mausoleums. Stone crypts." He could hear himself talking but it was just words. It had to be just words. If he let loose the feeling behind them he might as well take that little stroll into the sunlight.  _Go on. It's past. Max has his scars and you have yours_. "Inside one of those tombs is an extra body. His name is...was...Marcus. He was..." _Shit._ He was...had been _everything_ and Val hadn't known it until it was too late. "He was my lover for nearly four years.  Best friend, teacher; too many things to list.  And he's dead. I...when I ...was...embraced.  I had no idea.  Didn’t even really know what had happened.  I thought it was just a bad trick and some drugs and I’d lived through it.  I was really, really wrong. Dead wrong." He couldn't even laugh at the unintentional pun. "I was scared. I was hurt and confused. I was barely twenty years old and I went to Marcus for help. Went to Marcus because he was always there. And then the Hunger hit me. Hard."

"So you were like Yvette? Changed but you didn't know what was going on?" Being so new to the truth of vampires existing, Yvette was Max's main link and really the only thing he had by which to measure other vampires. He saw Val nod but then the other man opened his mouth and continued before Max could ask anything else.

"He was dead before I even knew what hit me.  I drained him dry and didn't know I had done it. All I knew was that I had to feed.”  Val stopped and took a deep breath.  Didn’t need it but it helped for some odd reason.  “When it was all over and I realized what I had done. I took his body and I stuffed it into that tomb.  Then I spent the next couple of months telling everyone who asked that he had just up and disappeared. It happens sometimes. Hustlers just leave or disappear and no one really notices or cares. And I knew it. Used it." His voice sounded hollow even to himself. "You've got scars on your soul, Max. This is what having no soul looks like." His gaze held Max's for a long moment. "Be scared of it. I am."

Max held the stare, and willed himself not to look away. "You didn't know what you were doing and you tried to make amends the same way I guess I've been trying. We've apologized to that girl and Marcus a thousand times but they're always still there, huh?"

"I should have known...if I'd been paying attention-" Val started only to have Max cut him off.

"How could you know?" Max asked harshly. "All you had was instinct before and after.  You did what you could do for him.  Man, if I've gotta believe what you were shoveling about how I'm actually a better person than I think I am, you've gotta believe that somehow he knows how you feel and that you're sorry and you'd do anything to change it."

"I knew because I had killed a bum in an alley not an hour before." Val said sharply. "Max, I'm not talking about whether I what I do is good or bad. It is what it is!  The bum?  I tried to feed off him and mangled it.  He died before I could finish but I _still_ went to Marcus and never once thought about going to the police for any of it – even an anonymous tip on where to find his body!  I didn't even think about the police. God knows I’m sorry for Marcus.  But for the others?  Two pimps and a crack dealer?  No.  I made those choices.  I know what murder is and what dying is.  I do it every fucking morning,” he finished bitterly.  “But every night I get back up and start over again."

He stopped and tried to regroup.  He hadn’t even told Tevis this much and here he was spilling his guts to a virtual stranger in the back of a strip club.  But there was something about the pain in Max’s soul that Val responded to and it made him draw closer even though all his instincts from the street screamed at him to back away.  "Max, I know what you’re trying to say and I appreciate it.  Honest to God,” Val said quietly. "But don't think of us as human – ‘cause we're not. Not anymore and especially not when we’re hungry. Believe me, when that hits?  You know you have no soul, no matter how much you fake it the rest of the time."

Max let his arm fall and shifted to lean against the wall.  Having support still helped with his breathing.  "You got a soul, Everett,” he said.  “Ain't no way you can tell me that you hauled me up to the roof just 'cause you decided it'd be something for an evening's entertainment. Hell, you got more soul in you than some of these people walkin' around here still breathing."

Val smiled a little tiredly, the thought of sleep, real sleep suddenly very appealing. The whole idea of anyone knowing and even more, _accepting_ what he was, was new and a little heady and a lot terrifying. It made him think, hope, however briefly, that he might be able to tell his family someday. He choked the thought back a moment later.  _Don't go there. Don't even think about going there. This is why you stayed away...why you moved._ _Why you are trying to start over._

Max was still watching him. "Thanks for that," Val said. "I hear what you’re saying and I want to believe it more than you know..." He took another unnecessary breath.  This was getting to be a habit. "I'll make you a deal,” he offered and it suddenly seemed very important Max accepted it.  “If you try to believe that girl's death had some meaning for you, that it changed you for the better, I'll keep trying to believe that I can keep from becoming worse than I am." 

"You were right about the hooks," Val continued, remembering what Max had said to him in the alley. "I have enough hooks in me.  My family, Tev—“  He stopped abruptly.   “I have to remind myself that I will kill and that I _have_ killed because if I forget, if I don't remind myself every night it will happen again. It almost happened tonight because I forgot." He offered up a small smile.  Talking about himself like he was still human was nearly a lost art.  "It's okay. I don't hate myself most days and I try not to hurt or to kill because I think not caring would be worse.  Maybe I do have a soul but I don't keep it.  I guess maybe others have for me – like you tonight when you kept me from killing the college kid. Maybe it's the same for you." He smiled again. He liked Max and now he owed him more for rescuing a little bit of Val's soul.

Max wasn't sure he wanted to be the guardian of anyone's soul when he had a difficult enough time wrestling with his own. "I don't claim to know anything about y'all," he said to Val. "Until a few nights ago, I didn't even know vampires really existed. Know how I found out? I dared Yvette to show me her fangs." He shook his head at the memory of at least still being innocent to some things in the world.  Now that was gone as well. "To be perfectly honest, it scares the hell out of me. I know you could kill me without a second thought." Max sighed and shoved his hair out of his eyes.   "I don't think...relationships...or friendships are built on the base of what one person can do or has done for another. It's not an equality thing – or it shouldn't be but, then, it ain't exactly a perfect world. I helped 'cause I wanted to."

Val saw the faint look of surprise cross Max's face, easing the lines there. He knew the feeling. He felt himself lose a little bit of the fear every time he looked at Tevis and saw acceptance and love looking back at him.  It wasn’t the same with Max but there was a strength there Val needed; a gift he found himself unwilling to refuse.

"Make you a deal," Max said. "I'll hold onto your soul and you hold onto mine. Maybe we'll decide to believe what the hell the other person is saying."

Val nodded, holding out his right hand, deliberately forcing Max to use the one with missing finger. He gripped Max' hand firmly, curling his fingers around the tanned palm, wrists slightly twisted. "Deal," he said. There wasn't anything else to be said. "Before this gets awkward," he said, grin turning up the corners of his mouth, "try to stay out of trouble - yours or anyone else's - at least until your ribs heal, okay?”  The gratitude on Val’s face exposed far more than his passionate words had, making him look the twenty he'd been when his life ended and his death started.

A loud banging on the door startled them both.  “Hey!” the same female voice yelled.  “It’s been a fuckin’ _half-hour_.”

“Alright, already,” Max called back.  He pressed a hand to his side.  “Keep your friggin’ pasties on!” 

He walked slowly over to his locker and pulled out a black T-shirt. It took a minor miracle but he managed to get it over his head and on, carefully tucking it into the pants he was wearing. "My job's waiting," he said. "Gotta pay the rent.  Gotta eat." He drew a careful breath to test the rib wrap and sent up a silent prayer that there'd be no wrangy Japanese businessmen tonight.

"Besides," he said as he shut his locker door.  “Club policy is guests and friends gotta leave by the front door."

Val watched Max with a bemused expression on his face. "You are a piece of work, Max," he said with a chuckle.

Max grinned into the mirror he was using to check out the damage and make sure it didn't look too bad. He didn’t need any questions from anyone.  "May not be your speed, Everett, but it’ll give you a birds-eye view of how the other half lives."

"Now how am I supposed to take that, Max? Is there some part of my education you think is missing?" Val asked, glad for the sudden and incredibly easy rapport they'd slipped into after so much exposure. But that was how it was. You could look into the pictures of your past but you had to close the album at some point and shelve it. "You know what they say: turnabout is fair play," Val added wickedly, casting a flirtatious glance down Max's body just to see if the man would blush.  He did and Val burst out laughing as much because it was funny as to reassure Max he was kidding.

Max opened the door and a busty blond drenched in cheap perfume and cigarette smoke shoved in between them.  Max rolled his eyes. "Come on. Mike's gonna be wondering what the hell happened to me."

He showed Val down the short hall and the vampire could hear the crowd louder and sharper as they approached the bar floor.  The bass was starting to vibrate through his feet. "How do you stand this?" He had to nearly yell to make himself heard.

Max hadn't even thought about it. "Just used to it,” he yelled back. They came through the curtain and he signaled Mike that he was back. Val watched as the two conferred, then let his eyes sweep over the crowd. There was so much obvious lust in the air that it was nearly palpable. Eyes glittered nearly as much as the skimpy costume the girl on stage was wearing as she spun around a pole on high heels that probably added a good five inches to her height. Looking back, he could see Max scanning the crowd, his eyes lighting on possible trouble spots and mentally filing them away to keep an eye on or discarding them as potential problems.  Catching Val's eye, he jerked his head in a “follow me” motion and pointed to the door.

They had not gotten a dozen steps when Val stopped as if someone had just turned a switch off. His eyes looked straight ahead and Max tried to follow his gaze, looking through the crowd and then back at his friend. If Val couldn't have gotten any paler he would have and after all he'd heard Val say tonight, the look of outright bottomless despair on his face would have assured Max that Val had a soul if he hadn't already known it. No one without one could look to be in that much pain and fear.

"Fuck me raw," Val whispered and then he was backing away. "Oh God..." He slipped back several paces, then turned and ran, punching through the curtain they'd just come out of almost as if it didn't exist. Max tried to catch him but his injuries pulled him up short and he ended up hanging on to the bar and trying to blink the spots out of his eyes. 

Cursing, he turned back to the crowd to try and see what had so spooked Val so badly.  What would have the power to scare a vampire?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an independent work based on the concept of the Kindred from the White Wolf World of Darkness Role-Playing Game and Novels. The concept of Immortality and the Game as presented here are the property of Gregory Widen and Panzer/Davis Productions, as are the characters of Duncan MacLeod and Methos (among others.) The Lattice characters and concepts appear here by permission of V. Watts and M. Snowden. All other characters and concepts are the property and creation of thewildmole and V. Watts.
> 
> Maygra and I originally began this saga way back in the dark reaches of the 1990's. We might have called this When Worlds Collide because it is a collision of sorts. Take a World of Darkness RPG, a healthy dose of the original universe set out in Lattice (by Snowden and Watts) and toss in two young men trying to make sense of the world around them, the balances between Chaos and Order, and the need to hold onto their own souls and you have Twin Sons and Different Brothers. Max and Val met by accident -- not unlike their creators. Maygra and I have enjoyed a long friendship apart from this collaboration but it would have never originally happened without this story. Having some time on my hands, I (thewildmole) decided to edit the original work and repost it (something Maygra is fine with). ...
> 
> We warn you now that the language is frequently harsh and the situations harsher. (Rated NC17 for violence, language and sexual situations.) The NPC Characters of Tevis, Madeleine, Crispin and assorted other vampires and inhabitants of New Orleans, belong to original World of Darkness RPG Game Mistress and Goddess Meg Wittenmyer (I think we have her permission.)
> 
> Warning: The following story may be rated G, PG, R, NC17 or even X. It may contain graphic depictions of sex between men or between men and women. I can pretty much guarantee there won't be any sex between people and animals...but nothing is ever 100%. Vampires, Immortals, Jedi and other anomolies are fair game though. There may be violence, graphic violence, nudity, bad language or adult themes. There may be non-consensual sex, rape, partner rape, hurt/comfort, and mental anguish. There may be torture, sadism, masochism, bondage, or bad verb conjugations. There may be death, there may be a major character death. The ending may be happy or it may be really depressing. There may be much affection, cuddling and kissing. There may be an uneasy resolution. Over-the-topness is not guaranteed but is highly probable. There may even be a plot. Or, there may be none of those things. You have been warned.This material may not be copied or distributed without permission--we intend no copyright infringement, make no profit and promise to share. Welcome to the darkside of the soap opera. Comments may be be sent to thewildmole@gmail.com and maygra@bellsouth.net


	3. Theory of Relativity

Max didn't really notice him at first.  There were no signs that marked him as a troublemaker or overly boisterous.  He was actually fairly non-descript – just another one of the sad guys on the wrong side of fifty who skulked into the Bayou to stare at young girls’ tits and try to recapture their lost youth.  Max might have entirely discounted him except the guy was moving through the crowd systematically, stopping at almost every table and showing people something.

Every head shake he got appeared to affect him like a physical blow but he kept at it. Max moved closer after a glance at Mike got him a shrug in response.  Nothing had happened while he was in the back then.  If anything, the man seemed to be very polite, tapping people’s shoulders and waiting for their attention before showing them the picture.  Still, meek and mild-looking on the outside didn’t mean trouble when asked about why he was there so Max kept moving carefully towards the man at an angle so he could keep observing the interactions. 

The stranger was a big man, broad shouldered and stocky in a way that suggested long years of physical labor.  There was no pot belly or stooped shoulders.  His hair had once been dark from what Max could see but was now streaked with dull gray and silver.  He was wearing nondescript jeans and a white dress shirt, both clean and the jeans still had creases in the legs.  Max wasn’t a judge of fashion but something about the guy’s sports coat reminded him of the 1970’s.  He wasn't even looking at the dancers.

Max kept moving in between tables until he was right up next to the guy. "'Scuse me, would you come with me, please?" He still half-expected trouble but the man obediently walked towards the corner of the club Max had indicated.  Max followed him and pointed when the man glanced back at him until they were over by the bar at the opposite end from Mike. "Is there something I can help you with so you don't have to bother the clientele?" he asked.

The man looked at Max which normally wasn’t a big deal.  He was used to people sizing him up in terms of what he could do for them, how they might come out in a fight against him, getting questioned by the cops or as a potential bed partner.  The way this man was looking at him, though, was different.  He was, obviously sizing him up but there wasn’t any judgment Max could see in his gaze.  It was almost more like he hoped Max was the one he was looking for.  That set Max’s teeth on edge.  He wasn’t used to being looked at like that. 

The gaze lingered on the cut along Max's cheek before taking in the bruises and the scrapes on his face. "You the bouncer?" he asked.  He had a deep voice, slightly hoarse like he’d yelled too much.  The physical impression of strength was softened a little by a pronounced southern drawl that lent an unexpected softness to his image. "I'm not trying to bother anybody.  I'm looking for someone." He handed Max a photo.

Max looked down, prepared to say he hadn’t seen whoever’s mother, brother, cousin, dog or manicurist the guy was looking for and stopped short.  It was Val. It wasn’t a recent picture but it wasn’t more than a couple years old from what Max could figure.  Val’s hair was longer and he looked thinner.  His arms were crossed over his chest and a cocky smirk played across his face.  The white tank top and tight shorts made Max want to roll his eyes.

Max used the excuse of checking the crowd to take his eyes off the photograph and this man who was apparently somehow related to Val.  Uncle?  Cousin?  Father?  He figured it had to be some kind of relation unless the guy had a fetish for hookers he'd used before. "Yeah, I'm the bouncer," he agreed, his eyes coming back to rest on the man's face. If the truth gave nothing away, Max wasn’t averse to using it.  It was always good to hide behind the easiest identity.  "You a cop?"

"No..”  The man shook his head and leaned in a little.  “He's my son. He's older now, near twenty-five.  Have you seen him?"

His father.  _Shit_. Max looked at the picture again and decided it was definitely pre-vampire. "What's he doing down here?" he asked, fishing for more information while he tried to decide what to do.

"He...he's a hustler.  A prostitute," the man said and flushed although he held Max’s gaze.  "He's my son,” he added more defensively this time.

Well, his dad obviously knew the score on at least one aspect of Val's life. "Mighta seen him around," Max allowed.  His mind raced while he tried to figure what, if anything, to say to this man. A loud cheering and hooting snatched his attention away and he looked over to see a group of rowdies applauding the next dancer. It died down and he turned back to find the man staring at him with intense eyes. Val had the same intense look.  Max had seen it recently.  Very recently.

"Within the last few days?" Everett senior asked.  Something that Max thought might have been hope flared in the man’s eyes.  "His name is Valentine Everett.  He goes by Val."

"Can't exactly recall," Max drawled. The look of disappointment in the man's eyes hurt him almost like a blow and he stepped back a pace, unsure why he was having such a strong reaction to this father trying to find his son.  He knew he could tell this Mr. Everett that he’d just spent the last couple hours with Val but he wouldn’t.  Max highly valued his own privacy and unless he missed his guess, so did Val. 

"I just want to talk to him.  Make sure he's all right. He left home suddenly."  Everett senior rubbed one massive hand across the bridge of his nose. He looked like he'd been on his feet all day and was starting to feel the aches and pains of his search. 

"I'm sure he's OK," Max tried to reassure the older man. "Prostitutes know the score." He looked at the picture a third time. "Why are you trying to find him? Do you want him to come home or somethin'?"

"Yes....no.  We heard on the news back home about the prostitutes...the murders," Everett said. "He sent a birthday gift to his sister from here and I just thought…I should try.  Make sure he’s all right.  I’ve been showing his picture in places.  Maybe with your job...you could tell me..." Everett fell silent again.

"What about the job I do?" Max asked evenly.

"I thought he might hang around nearby. At home...he used to hang around the clubs...to work," Everett said, obviously not comfortable talking about what his son did for a living but willing to say anything that might help him find Val.

"Take a look around, Mr. Everett," Max said not unkindly. "Very few gay prostitutes are going to come around a place like this. It's just inviting trouble for them."  _Yeah, like fighting frat boys._  His cheek started to throb a little.

"Or maybe...”  The words were coming slower and Max wasn’t sure if it was the lighting or if Mr. Everett was flushing as he tried to get them out like this was any normal conversation two people might have.  “Maybe you could tell me what places in town he might go...to find clients. The homosexual...some section where gays go?" There was a desperate look on his face in spite of his attempting to sound natural. 

Max considered, drumming the fingers of his left hand on the bar top while he thought.  He heard Mike call out an order for a waitress as he did.  He  _could_  send Everett there and extricate himself from this before it went any farther but sending Val’s dad down there would, at best, get him humiliated or mugged. At worst, it could be his son having to identify him in the morgue.  Neither option was particularly appealing even though Max firmly told himself it wasn’t his problem.

As he opened his mouth, another internal voice chimed in and asked what it could hurt to just let Val know why the guy was here.  It wasn’t like Max had to really do anything other than say he would try; didn’t even have to say he actually knew Val.  "Tell you what," he finally said to Mr. Everett and sighed internally as Val's father's eyes latched onto him again with that look of hope. "Write down where you're staying. Let me ask around. If I find anything out, I'll let you know."

The older man seemed to hesitate, studying Max again with that look that said he was just as used to assessing people by their looks as Max was in being assessed. "I just want to talk to him and make sure he’s okay.  Make sure he's not…sick or something." He looked down at the floor as he said finished speaking..

"If I find...Valentine,” Max said, “it's gonna be up to him whether he talks to you or not. I don't play social worker."  _Hell you're not!_  he jeered at himself. Did he have some fucking sign on his back that read "Bring me your really lame people, your impossible situations" or what?

Mr. Everett nodded.  "My name's Hugh," he said and pulled out his wallet, fumbling a bit with the ancient looking leather held together by a rubber band. He opened it and pulled out a twenty, offering it to Max like he knew he was expected to pay for what he found out but not used to the idea. There weren't many bills in the wallet and no credit cards that Max could see. There were however, what looked like several pictures tucked in the worn plastic sheaths.

"Keep it, Mr. Everett," Max said and stuffed his free hand into his pocket. "I don't need your money."

"No, you take it. You don't want it?  You give it to those...those girls over there," he said, glancing at the dancers who he had barely noticed before, his mouth set in a hard, sad line.  When Max made no move to take the bill from his hand, Hugh set it down on the bar between them.

Max watched Val's father write down the motel he was staying at on a cocktail napkin.  As he watched, Max could see flashes of Val in the eyes, some of the body movements. The cockiness, the visible surety must have come from Val himself, though. The older man seemed beaten down by more than his journey into the nightlife of the Quarter. He accepted the napkin and folded it in half before stuffing it into a pocket.

Hugh put the wallet away carefully and glanced down at Val's picture again before slipping it into his jacket pocket. He held out his hand to Max. "You let me know. And if you see him, you tell him Tree liked her present. I'm going to keep looking for a bit.”  He stopped speaking and Max could almost see Hugh Everett pull himself back together.  “But you leave a message for me at the motel either way" he said, a little more in command of himself.

"OK." Max pulled out his left hand again, shook Hugh’s hand and then watched as the man made his way back out of the club, always apologizing to anyone's chair or person that he bumped into. He shook his head. Val's dad would be dead meat if he tried to navigate the Quarter on his own. And it was a sure bet that he'd never find Val - not the way that boy had run.

Once Mr. Everett had left the Bayou, Max made up his mind. He told Mike he was leaving for the evening.  Mike nodded.  “I was gonna tell ya to go anyway." Max nodded his thanks and left.

Once outside the Bayou, he looked around, then looked up. With a sinking feeling, he had an idea where the vampire had gone to and very nearly turned around to start walking back to his shithole of an apartment. Instead, he mumbled a steady stream of curses to himself as he shouldered his way through the nighttime crowd and tried to keep them from jostling him more than usual. As it was, there were several collisions that produced a shock of pain running through him that nearly sent him to the ground.

Max reached the building, looked at the fire escape and nearly turned away again.  He was tired.  He was sore.  His chest hurt like a bitch and breathing just flat out sucked.  He didn’t want to have anything to do with this whole lost and found thing Hugh Everett had going, either. Yet here he was.  Why the  _hell_ had he stuck around after Val had pulled him up instead of just saying a quick thank you and getting out of there?  Now Val had his hooks stuck in Max but good.   _Son of a--._   Grabbing the first rung with his good hand, he put his foot up and began to climb.

He made it to the top after what felt like an eternity, sweating and protectively bending over the pain in his chest. His left arm felt like lead from being made to do most of the work. "Val?" he called. "You here, Everett?"

There was silence for a long moment and Max was beginning to think he'd misjudged.  If so, he considered staying up on the roof all night because the climb down was guaranteed to be twice as much of a bitch as the climb up.  He swore under his breath and turned to grasp the ladder. 

"You pull those stitches out and I'm not stitching your ass up again," Val's voice came from somewhere near the front of the building.

"That’s good considering it wasn’t my ass that got cut,” Max shot back.  “Fast exit," he commented while walking towards the sound.

He found the vampire sitting on the very edge of the roof, looking down at the street. He was precariously perched on the narrow raised brick work, sitting cross-legged as he watched the traffic pass below him.

"Slow retreats are for war heroes," Val muttered. Other than to glance at Max briefly, he kept his gaze averted. "You must really be into pain. I could hear you wheezing all the way over here."

"Not much choice.  Can’t really do smoke signals." He hurt but that wasn't the topic of conversation.

"Did you talk...?" Val fell silent.

"Talk to your father?" Max finished. "Yeah. I did." Carefully, he leaned down to his left until his hand touched the roof edge, then let his legs find it and dangle over as he cautiously sat down. He'd made himself confront his fear of heights after the accident but talking to Val had brought up everything fresh again and he couldn't ignore the panic that sprang up inside him and then nestled in his stomach like a wild animal waiting for an unsuspecting meal.

"Did something happen?” Val managed to ask.   

"He wants to talk to you. Make sure you're all right." There were no streetlights up here and the stars didn't give much illumination so he couldn't really make out the features on Val's face to see if any of this was registering with the vampire. "By the way, you have a sister named Tree? What is it with your family? Was she born on Arbor Day or something?"

Val looked at him for a moment blankly and then a faint smile touched his lips before he looked away again. "No. Her name is Theresa...Theresa Elizabeth," he said softly, with a long 'ay' sound on the second syllable. "We were named for Saints. All of us. Saints and Kings and Queens."

"Why'd you rabbit like that?" Hugh Everett hadn't looked particularly threatening to Max but he could have been wrong.  He knew from his own experience that foster families all looked charming and functional on the outside but that didn’t mean it was true. "What's goin' on, Val?"

Val shrugged. "Didn't want to see him. Haven't seen him in..." Val shifted, swinging his legs over the edge, leaning on his hands and looking for all the world like he was going to push off before he settled back down.

"He said to tell you that Tree liked your gift."

"Wondered how he knew. Forgot about the post mark. Stupid!" Val said harshly.  "She just turned sixteen," he said after a moment. "I turned my first trick at sixteen and now my father wants to know if his queer whore of a son is all right eight years down the line." The edge and anger was back in Val’s tone. 

"He wanted to make sure that you were okay. That you weren't sick." He wasn't good at this. Val had a knack while Max had started talking before he'd even figured out what to say. Sitting next to the vampire, Max was starting to feel awkward but the memory of the evening's earlier events made him sit there even he desperately wanted to leave.

Val wanted to ask. He wanted to pry details out of Max like little presents only he doubted Max knew anything. His father would not have discussed his family with a stranger. He was surprised he'd mentioned Theresa.

Max looked down at the street below and immediately wished he hadn't. He gripped the ledge tighter and changed his line of sight to the building across from them and started talking again. "He asked me if I'd seen you. When I said that you looked familiar, there was this...change. He still looked unsure of what part of Hell he'd found himself in, but...it was like knowing you had at least been around was worth all of it." He paused. "Before you ask, I didn't tell him that I knew you. Only said I thought I'd seen you around and if I did see you, it was gonna be up to you to talk to him. I ain't no social worker."

"No, family counselor, more like," Val said and looked over at Max with a grin when the other man muttered a “fuck you”.  Val swung his legs back over onto the roof. "Get off the ledge, Max, before you fall. I would hate to make this hauling you up the side of buildings into some sort of ritual. I already know you don't like heights.  Nothing to prove here, man," Val said and rose to stand behind Max. If Max wanted to look at to him, he'd have to turn around.

Max stayed exactly where he was. Val thought he had nothing to prove but the hawker knew he had to prove to himself once again that he could control the fear, make it dormant again to the point where it wouldn't unexpectedly creep up on him. He'd done it before.  He'd make himself do it again.

"Tell him you saw me. Tell him I didn't want to talk to him - that I'm fine. Tell him I'm glad Tree likes the music box. What else did he say? Why'd he come here now?" Val asked, sounding more agitated and pushing the gravel of the roof around with his foot.

Max snorted and looked away. "I do one freaking favor," he mumbled, "and I'm marked for life." He thought he heard Val make a derisive sound but didn't bother to check, instead picking up his narrative and detailing a few more minutes of his talk with the elder Everett. Finally, he slowly turned to look at Val, keeping his torso as immobile as possible. "Man, why'd you leave home?"

Val sighed and dug his hands into his back pockets. "Because...because I was queer and turning tricks and he found out about both at the same time.  Because I was tired of watching him trying for the American dream and failing." He said the last bitterly, angrily. "Because he wanted me to be like him and I hated him...then."

"But not now," Max followed. "'Cause you've forgotten how to. Been too long."

"No. I don't hate him anymore. But too much has gone past. We haven't seen or talked to each other in years."

"He sounds like he's trying to be a good father now."  Not that Max had a lot of experience with that beyond television families.

"You don't know what you're talking about, Max." Val said in a near whisper.

No, he didn’t. So why was he trying so hard with Val?  Why didn’t he just shut up and go?  Even as he asked the questions, Max could feel the hooks Val had set lodge even deeper and he’d be willing to be there was one with Hugh Everett’s name on it now.  He needed to get out and get away from all this daddy crap.

A horn sounded in the street below and jerked his attention away from Val.  The automatic glance down at the street set off the panic inside and he had to fiercely will it back down and try to ignore the adrenaline spurt that left his arms and legs feeling tingly and weak.   _Fuck this._ "You know what, Everett? The guy is here. He's here in the fucking Quarter, for God's sake. He's not out seein' the sights. He's crawlin' around with the drunks and the dancers and the hookers looking for his son!"

He was getting angrier and couldn’t seem to stop it.  The force of it gave him strength as he slowly pulled himself upright, ignoring the protesting of his body and looked Val in the face.  "You know what he asked me? He asked me where to find the spots gay prostitutes hang out so he could go down there and ask for you. Think about how long he would have lasted there before he got mugged or worse. Then you woulda been identifying his body in the fucking morgue!"  _Shit_. And his New Jersey accent was showing up again.  “You’re—“  Max stopped even though the thought finished itself out in his head.   _You’re throwing away everything I never had._  

"Max, please. I can't see him. You don't understand."

"All I know is you've got a father. I don't even  _remember_  mine."

Val's hands closed over his shirt and jerked Max up off the ledge and toward him, forgetting injuries, forgetting his strength as he lifted Max a couple of inches off the ground.

"His son is dead!" Val screamed at him. "Don't you get it? The son he is looking for is dead!"   Val’s handsome face was twisted and contorted in grief and his entire body was shaking as if he were sobbing.

Max got a lot of things right then.  Chief among them was the fact that vampires were stronger than the average mortal. He could swear he felt his ribs cave in on him. "Val," he choked out, "put me down. Talk to me."

Val was still staring, taking in gulps of air to try and quell the sounds that he was making.  It was a kind of keening, choked wail that was low and soft and raised the hair on the back of Max’s neck. He met Max's eyes and awareness of what he was doing and who he was doing it to seemed to return.

Val secured his grip and set Max down gently, steadying him. "Christ, I'm sorry! Max... fuck!" He swore inventively as Max's legs gave out and Val eased him down until they were sitting.  He listened to Max try to catch his breath. Once he was sure Max wasn't going to pass out, Val backed away.

"It nearly killed him when he found out I was gay," Val said softly while he drew designs on the rooftop with his index finger.  "And when he found out I was turning tricks I thought he'd kill me himself. It didn't matter that I was giving him most of what I made.  Still do. Marcus had almost convinced me to talk to him again...and then this happened."

"Now what?"  Max’s voice was whispery and hoarse.

Val tried to speak and his voice cracked over and over as the words finally came out.  “How can I face him any of them knowing what I am now?  Not only am I gay but I am dead and drink blood!  Isn’t that what every Catholic father wants to hear?  That his son is damned by everything he holds sacred?" There was laughter for a moment that quickly changed pitch and tone and became more muffled as Val covered his mouth with his hands.

"I don't know, Val," Max said.  He was probably making this worse by talking and should just shut up but his mouth seemed to be running independently of his brain. "Just the same way I didn't know how to tell anyone about...Rebecca. That was her name," he said, clearing his throat. "Rebecca." He moved until he was sitting next to where he could have easily touched Val. "Maybe...maybe you don't tell him about being a vampire. Not now. Could be you never will. But he's here and he wants to talk to his son the 'queer whore' even though he never used those words when he was talking to me. Time makes people do funny things.  Your dad might just be wanting to make amends."  Max made himself shut up and concentrated on the sounds drifting up from the street below as a way to take his mind off the words that were still appearing in his head and weighing heavy on his tongue.

" _You don't get it_. What do I tell him, Max?" Val whispered, turning his cheek against his knee. "You've seen me.  ‘Gee, dad, sorry.  Need to work on my tan.  I’m a Goth and the teeth are part of the outfit?’”  He scrubbed his cheek against his knee.  “I don't even look like the son he knew. All he has to know is that I am alive – more or less.  I’ll keep sending the checks every month so he’ll know I’m okay.”  He got to his feet and moved back towards the ledge, bracing a foot against it.  “You don't understand. I never doubted that he loves me. He's a good father; always has been. He worked his ass off his entire life to give us better than he got and it was for nothing. Nothing!"

"Even though the church said faggots are an abomination, I was still his son. The church says prostitutes are the children of Satan? I was still his son. He didn't kick me out.  I left. I left because I was making more money than I ever had and I liked the sex and the money.  Still do.”  Val shrugged.  “I send checks every month because he needs the help even if he won’t admit it.  My older sister got pregnant twice. No father who would step up so no child support. She lives at their home with her kids. My father is sixty years old and he still works like a dog. No retirement, just his social security. He lost everything when the company he worked for went out of business and a sixty year old framer doesn't get many jobs."

Max slowly pulled himself upright again.  He didn’t like the way Val kept rocking his foot against the roof ledge and looking over the side as he spoke.

"The last time I saw him,” Val continued, “he told me to come home.  Said he had a job for me learning to build furniture.”  He laughed and it was a harsh, choked sound.  “He gave me the guy's card and I almost laughed in his face. Guy was a regular customer of mine and I said so. My father didn't think it was funny. He called me things I didn't think he understood and whore was the least of them. So I told him there was more than one in the family only Bernadette didn't get paid for it. It was the only time in my life he ever hit me."

Val eyed the drop below as the words suddenly, finally dried up.  It looked like a good distance and Val wondered idly how long it would take before he would get up again – or if he even would.  It might be worth it to find out. They would find him, report him dead, and his father could go home and never have to worry about him again. His family would grieve but it would be over.  He could even leave New Orleans and start somewhere else.   _Tevis_ , he thought.   _Sorry, sugar_.  He stepped up on the ledge and looked down. 

Max pushed himself up and wandered over to the ledge.  The panic skittered through his stomach again when he looked down and he forced wooden limbs into action as he kicked off his shoes and stepped up to stand on the ledge in his socks.  The hard pebbled cement gouged the tender skin on the bottom of his feet.

Val glanced at Max and saw the pallor in his face.  It pulled him out of his suicidal funk like a shot of cold water to the face.  "What are you doing? You fall and you won't get up, Max. I will."

"My dad," Max tried to say in a conversational tone as his heart began to race, "died when I was 5." He turned and made one leg move forward on the ledge. "Didn't exactly die peacefully.  He flipped and talked to the Feds about the La Cosa Nostra.  Got shanked in the yard for his trouble.” 

He kept stepping even though his legs felt like lead. As he got close to the first corner Max had to lift up first one foot and then the other to step over a thin silver wire tying an antenna down to the roof. His first foot made it cleanly and his right snagged the wire before he set it down again. "I never knew what he was thinking or why he did it.  When I got old enough to understand what he'd done and what the penalty had been, I hated him." Several small pieces of debris were in his path and he had to lengthen his steps to pass over them without stepping on them.  The bigger steps made his balance waver and Max paused in place for a moment, frozen.  His heart pounded so hard it felt like it would burst out of his chest.  He couldn’t catch his breath.

He made himself try to breathe in and stopped short at the pain in his chest.  “Now I don’t know what I feel.  I suppose I still hate him but I’ll never get the chance to tell him, y’know?”  He was at the second corner and stopped speaking to navigate the turn. 

Max's racing heart made Val nervous. He knew Max was trying to make a point and Val had stepped off as soon as Max started walking. Melodramatic gestures hit him at the damnedest times while suicidal tendencies surfaced more often and faded almost as fast. He knew it but Max didn't and he didn't want anything to happen to Max. He couldn't say why except that he liked him. Admired him. Owed him.  _Great way to pay your debts off, Val_. 

"I'm down, Max,” Val said, speaking quickly and trying to maintain a calm tone despite his nervousness.  “You don't have to prove anything. Get down. Please." The asshole was going to fall and Val was damned if it would be his fault. "It was a stupid idea. One idiot up here is enough. Max, please, get down."

He knew what Max was talking about was a pain as deep as the other he’d shared and it also could never be resolved.  Val was sorry, sorrier than Max knew that the other man hadn't had the family Val had.  Max deserved it more than Val did.  Hugh Everett would have been proud to have a son like Max.

"Max, you asshole!” Val barked.  “Get the hell down!" He was afraid to reach for him, afraid to make a sudden move that might break the other man's concentration. He could see the sweat standing out on Max’s skin and Max’s heartbeat and breathing confirmed it wasn’t just because of the New Orleans weather.  He could smell the fear on the other man and Max was trembling as he moved, fighting for enough breath to talk and walk at the same time.

Max heard Val trailing him while he walked but he couldn’t spare any attention for anything other than putting one foot in front of the other and beating back the incipient panic that told him he was going to fall and die.  "My mom flipped out. She left me when I was about eight. Don't know where she is now." He started to round the third corner and the companion to the wire at the first corner appeared in front of him.  He exhaled and lifted his right leg.  His first step was clean.

His second step was not.

"Fuck!" Val lunged and managed to grab at the back of Max’s pants. He jerked him backward, got one arm around his waist and pulled. He head Max cry out and felt wetness across his arm at the same time he smelled the blood.  Twisting, he tried to keep them both from going over and felt his knee give way as they both went down hard – thankfully on the right side of the roof.  Max's weight came down hard on Val.  He felt his jacket ride up and the rooftop scraped his back through the T-shirt.  His leg burned from the strain and the awkward position. Max's heart was pounding like a whole racetrack of horses, and the gasping for air was painful to listen to.

"Why...you suppose...you...keep trying...get me...this position?" Max gasped. He felt weighted down, sluggish. It hurt to breathe.

"Dammit! Damn you!" Val snarled at him as he moved to lay Max down. "Stay still!" he ordered while he checked Max’s ribs.  Satisfied that none of them had broken, he moved Max onto his good side to try and ease the pressure and held him.  "Just breathe slow, Max," Val said, pushing the anger out and dragging the calm back in with every unnecessary breath of his own as he tried to get Max to time his breaths to Val’s.   _Don't die on me, Max. Damn you. Don't die on me._   He gently rubbed Max's upper back checking out the cut and seeing blood again. The gauze was soaked and Val pressed his hand against it. He felt Max's breath catch and for a moment thought he had stopped breathing.

"Don't," Max panted. "Hurts." God, he was so tired. Maybe he should just give up.

"Max, come on... _please_." Val begged. "I swear to God I'll talk to him.  God, I'll talk to him..." Val said and he wasn't talking to Max at all.  _I can't be the reason for this again. God, please!_  "Breathe, Max," he said softly. "Oh, man. Don't die on me. I will talk to my father. I will talk to anyone you fucking want me to. Don't make me do this again," he said, leaning close to Max, and listening until he heard the breath rattle through Max’s lungs again. The other man’s heart rate started to calm and Val sagged with relief.

Max took a couple of shallow breaths to store up enough oxygen to complete the statement in his head. "I heard that," he whispered. "Deal." He took more breaths and Val could hear each one catching as Max tried to hold it long enough to speak. "I don't die. You talk to him."

"I hate you, you asshole," Val said softly, still rubbing Max's back and letting the easy rhythm set the pace for Max to breathe.

"I can...live with that." Val looked down and saw Max flash an attempt at a smile.  This close up, he could also see Max’s eyes dilated with pain.  He rolled his own eyes in response but carefully brushed back the dark hair that had fallen over Max’s forehead.  Every part of his own body hurt and Val halfway wanted to kill the smart ass himself as much as help him out. 

"I thought we went through this,” he said.  “I'm the dead guy. You are the living one. You gotta keep this shit straight." He pulled his jacket off and wadded it up, putting it under Max's head.

Max shook his head.  "Needed to make...myself do it. If I don't...go back up, I'll never know...I can do it." He watched Val carefully.  “No worries,” he whispered.  His chest still felt like it was being squeezed in a vise and any little motion set off waves of pain rolling through his body but he tried to not let it show.  "One of the first things I did when I got back to carnivals was put together...a rollercoaster." He laughed a short, shallow chuckle at the expression he saw cross Val’s face.

"You are such an asshole,” Val shot back.  “You know I'm going to have to carry you down now, right? If you'd wanted a piggy back ride you just had to ask." Val’s hand never lost contact with Max's back even as he straightened out his aching legs.  Val could do this for hours and had been nurse and nursemaid to friends who were hurt or strung out. "Ever thought of being a stunt man?  If you’re going to do stupid things to prove a point, the least you could do is get paid better for it."

"Keep it in mind.”  Max shifted and felt Val’s hands under his shoulders, pulling him up slightly.  " 'Sides, I'm afraid of heights."  He flashed another tentative smile.

Val moved carefully and pulled the jacket out from under Max's head and shifted until Max was resting against him.  The jacket was draped across Max’s upper body and Val went back to rubbing again as much for contact as for the warmth friction would provide. He felt wetness on his cheeks and wiped at it, seeing the pale smears across the white skin of his hand.  _Great._  Not only had he nearly killed somebody tonight, ripped his guts out and handed them to a near-total stranger, seen his father looking like his own ghost, and watched this asshole of a carny nearly plummet to his death, but now he was crying. It was very likely the second worst night of his entire life.

"I really ought to punch you in the mouth and drag your unconscious ass to the clinic and leave you there," Val said and tested his leg. It hurt, but no worse than his back and he didn't even want to think about what that looked like. However, the pain was bearable.  Any pain was bearable once he'd managed to live through a couple of nasty bouts of Hunger.  "Max, I am going to pull you up to sitting. I want you to let me.  Don't fight me and don't help,” Val instructed.  He listened again to make sure he didn't hear the tell-tale liquid sound that would tell him Max was bleeding into his lungs. He didn't hear anything except Max’s labored breathing.  "Tell me where to go. Back to the club? To the clinic?  A hotel?  Where?"

There wasn’t a whole lot of choice.  “My place.  You can dump me and call your dad from there. It's neutral territory. You don't have to even tell him where you are. Just call and let it go from there, huh?"

"It's a plan. Give me the address," Val said, and moved to a crouch, stretching his bad leg a bit to the side. "We are going to do this now. You going to cooperate?"

"You gonna make me?" At the set look that crossed Val's face, Max relented. "I'm kidding, Everett. I don't think I'm in much shape to do anything right now."

Val got him up to sitting, just pulling him lightly by his opposite shoulder and barely rolling him back with his knees bent. "Ever been swept off your feet, Max?" Val asked softly, eyes dancing a little. "Just pretend you are a kid being tucked into bed - even if you never were." He put one arm under Max's back and the other under his knees, lifting him as easily as if he were a child. Even so, Val staggered a bit, breath hissing out softly as he forced his injured leg to take weight and felt the pull across his back.

He took a moment to check his balance then walked smooth as glass to the ladder. "Your only job is to keep breathing," Val told Max and crouched down again to help Max sit on the ledge. "This is the hard part," he said and came close watching as Max steeled himself. The only way Val could carry Max down was over his shoulder and that was going to hurt without some serious drugs to help. He could make this a lot more pleasant but he didn't think Max would appreciate the gesture on any level.

Max was still a little glassy-eyed when Val made his decision. "Close your eyes and take as deep a breath as you can, Max. Try to relax." He watched Max closely, saw the breath shudder in and swung.

His father would be proud. The blow caught Max right along his jaw under his ear and Val followed it with a swift pressure to the artery and nerves under his jaw. There were advantages to being a vampire but there were also advantages to being the son of a man who had once come close to winning the Golden Gloves championship.

Max fell forward and Val caught him.  He cautiously hoisted the man up again and prayed he wasn’t going to do any more damage.  He concentrated on Max's breathing for a minute but it had actually eased now that Max wasn't fighting off the pain as well.

"You are still an asshole, Griffin," Val muttered as he started to carefully back down the ladder. He smiled a bit."And paybacks are a total bitch."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an independent work based on the concept of the Kindred from the White Wolf World of Darkness Role-Playing Game and Novels. The concept of Immortality and the Game as presented here are the property of Gregory Widen and Panzer/Davis Productions, as are the characters of Duncan MacLeod and Methos (among others.) The Lattice characters and concepts appear here by permission of V. Watts and M. Snowden. All other characters and concepts are the property and creation of thewildmole and V. Watts.
> 
> Maygra and I originally began this saga way back in the dark reaches of the 1990's. We might have called this When Worlds Collide because it is a collision of sorts. Take a World of Darkness RPG, a healthy dose of the original universe set out in Lattice (by Snowden and Watts) and toss in two young men trying to make sense of the world around them, the balances between Chaos and Order, and the need to hold onto their own souls and you have Twin Sons and Different Brothers. Max and Val met by accident -- not unlike their creators. Maygra and I have enjoyed a long friendship apart from this collaboration but it would have never originally happened without this story. Having some time on my hands, I (thewildmole) decided to edit the original work and repost it (something Maygra is fine with). ...
> 
> We warn you now that the language is frequently harsh and the situations harsher. (Rated NC17 for violence, language and sexual situations.) The NPC Characters of Tevis, Madeleine, Crispin and assorted other vampires and inhabitants of New Orleans, belong to original World of Darkness RPG Game Mistress and Goddess Meg Wittenmyer (I think we have her permission.)
> 
> Warning: The following story may be rated G, PG, R, NC17 or even X. It may contain graphic depictions of sex between men or between men and women. I can pretty much guarantee there won't be any sex between people and animals...but nothing is ever 100%. Vampires, Immortals, Jedi and other anomolies are fair game though. There may be violence, graphic violence, nudity, bad language or adult themes. There may be non-consensual sex, rape, partner rape, hurt/comfort, and mental anguish. There may be torture, sadism, masochism, bondage, or bad verb conjugations. There may be death, there may be a major character death. The ending may be happy or it may be really depressing. There may be much affection, cuddling and kissing. There may be an uneasy resolution. Over-the-topness is not guaranteed but is highly probable. There may even be a plot. Or, there may be none of those things. You have been warned.This material may not be copied or distributed without permission--we intend no copyright infringement, make no profit and promise to share. Welcome to the darkside of the soap opera. Comments may be be sent to thewildmole@gmail.com and maygra@bellsouth.net


	4. Family Counselor

It was a sound that caught the fluttering edges of Max's consciousness and sent him floating slowly back towards the surface.  He followed it level by level, becoming aware of various aches and pains and one huge mass of hurt centered around his chest as he finally broke the surface and forced his eyes open.

Nothing looked familiar and Max let his gaze travel around the room until it lit on a small, tabletop fan that was slowly revolving in a circle and doing absolutely nothing to combat the stale, heavy air in the warm room.  He realized at that point he was no longer on the roof but, rather, in his own bedroom with absolutely no idea how he’d gotten here.  He thought back to his memories of the previous night and groaned when it all came back in a rush.  The roof.  Falling.  Val.

Val had sucker punched him.

His mouth was as dry as cotton.  His head ached and his entire torso throbbed.  Curious, he pulled the sheet up a bit and realized two things.  One was that his chest was no longer wrapped and the bruising was truly spectacular.  This insight was closely followed by the fact that someone had undressed him and then re-dressed him in only a pair of boxer briefs.  Max figured that was probably Val as well.    _Fantastic.  Give an inch and take a mile, Everett_.

An itching, pulling sensation made him glance down again and he could just see the end of a row of neat, tidy stitches.  Max guessed Val had stitched up his cut again and that was more than enough entry into Max’s life for the bouncer.  The next time he saw Val, they were going to have a discussion on exactly how at home the vampire could make himself in Max’s apartment.  Answer?  Not very.  Just because it was a shithole didn’t mean Val could make himself comfy because he was dropping Max off.  _Jackass._

First things, first, though.  He badly needed a shower. Moving slowly and carefully, Max managed to pull the sheet away from his body.  He had to stiffly roll onto his good side and then grab at his nightstand to try and pull himself upright.  Sweat broke out on his skin as he forced himself to a sitting position and he had to stop there, panting, while his lungs fought to expand and his head spun.  He was concentrating on trying not to black out when a deep voice cut sharply through the dizziness. 

"What do you think you're doing?"

Max turned his head and made out a shape through the hazy field obstructing his vision. When it cleared, he could see Mr. Everett.

"What the _hell_?" he burst out.

Hugh Everett observed the young man with a critical eye. He’d obviously been in a fight judging by the bruises on his face and the slash on his cheekbone.  The cut to the boy’s side told Hugh the fight had been a nasty one.  Even awake, the kid still looked like something the dogs had dragged in.  He held out a glass of juice and a bottle of over-the-counter pain killers.

"Drink this first, then take four of these.  After that we'll see what else you're up to," he said in a tone that brooked no argument.

Max obediently held out his hand for the pills before he knew what he was doing, still too befuddled by the appearance of Val’s father in his apartment to do anything more than act on autopilot.  He popped all four aspirin into his mouth and chased them down with the juice.  It was slightly bitter but it was cold, wet and a welcome relief.  “Time is it?” he asked, still trying to orient to the fact he was in his apartment and so was Val’s dad.

"’Bout 11:30 in the morning.  You want coffee?” Hugh asked.  “It's just the plain stuff. Didn't know what you liked and Val didn't say." Hugh said and almost smiled. It was worth this whole blasted trip just to hear Val’s voice and have his son ask him for something even if it was for somebody else.  "You need help getting to the bathroom, you tell me. I didn't spend all that time patching you up to have to do it again."

_Patching…?  Motherfucking vampire!_ Max searched his foggy memories of last night and could not recall where he might have told Val to invite his father over to Max’s place.  Call, yes.  Strip and manhandle him?  No.  It wasn't fucking show and tell around here, for God's sake.

Hugh waited for Max to reply.  He wanted to ask Max about Val, wanted another thread that could hopefully connect him back to his son but he pushed down the impatience and waited.  The kid was obviously hurting as evidenced by the stiff and cautious way he moved – and those were the recent injuries.  While he’d been patching Max up, Hugh had noticed the older injuries and catalogued them away.  When Max looked up at him, Hugh thought he caught some wariness in the younger man’s expression.

"I need a shower but I can do that on my own.”  Damned if he was gonna let somebody dress and undress him like a baby any more. "How'd you find this place?"

"Val called me at the motel and left me a message. I got it about five this morning. He asked me to come here.  Said he had a friend that had been hurt and he couldn't stay. Said he would see me tonight if I'd look after you. That was the deal. When I got here he was gone. That was right about dawn."

Max nodded and accepted a cup of coffee from Val's father, making sure his right hand was hidden from view. He was uncomfortable knowing that Mr. Everett had seen the scar as well. The coffee was in a nondescript Styrofoam cup and smelled slightly acrid, like it'd sat in its carafe on the burner for a while.  Max guessed Mr. Everett had visited the diner down the street while Max was out of it.  He blew on the coffee in an attempt to cool it and used the movement to hide taking another quick look at Hugh Everett.  He appeared more at ease than last night but still looked incredibly out of place standing in the middle of Max’s postage stamp apartment with the cheap furniture he’d scavenged from the dump or else a local Salvation Army, the peeling paint and the few, cheap pre-fab cabinets.  _Captain Suburbia_ , Max thought.  Everett didn’t belong here.  He belonged back wherever home was for Val’s family and not in the middle of Max’s apartment.  He reminded himself again to have a talk with Val about that.

“Sit down if you want,” he said finally and tilted his head towards an old chest he’d bought from a military surplus store.

Hugh hesitated a moment and then stepped further into the room and carefully lowered himself to sit on the trunk.  His gaze dropped and Max could see his face redden a bit before he asked, "Are you his...what do you call it? His boyfriend, I guess?"

Max inhaled in surprise and indignation in the midst of taking a sip of coffee. "Fuck, no!" he managed to hack out before a coughing fit seized him. Dropping the cup, he braced himself with both hands gripping the mattress as he began to choke. 

Hugh Everett was by his side before Max could barely even credit it.  He had Max turned on his good side again with a sharp but not hard rap between his shoulders that helped clear the cough and enabled him to take a shaky breath.  Max did so a few more times before he finally nodded and Hugh helped him back into a sitting position.  When he was more or less upright again, Max found a glass of water being pressed into his hand. 

"Sip this," Hugh said firmly holding the glass for Max. "Steady on, son."

Max again found himself doing exactly what he was told which honestly startled him.  He had obeyed the directives he'd received from Vault or Sammy or from other bosses because he had to. He found himself following Hugh Everett's statements almost instinctively, as if he wanted to, no questions asked.

"Did you know Val before he came here?"

Max shook his head, wiping his mouth quickly with the back of his hand as he settled on the mattress. "Met him here in the Quarter a little while ago."

"Just curious.  Val seemed to…well, he said you were stubborn," Hugh said, sitting back on the trunk again once he was assured Max was all right. "And I'm sorry; didn't mean to offend.  He sounded worried 'bout you on the phone.”  And if Max was Val’s boyfriend, Hugh had hoped to see pictures in the apartment to see how Val had changed, what his son looked like now.

If Hugh would have recognized him if they passed each other on the street.

When Max didn’t respond, Hugh was silent for a moment and then nodded as if deciding something.  "You do what you need to, son. Get your shower. Sleep. I brought the newspaper. I won't get in your way unless you do something stupid," he added sternly. "You need fetchin' and carryin', you let me know." He gazed at Max for a long minute and nodded again. "And before I forget?  Thank you."

Max had been set to protest the offer of help, tell this man that he didn't need it but Hugh's last statement brought him up short. "For what?" he asked gruffly.

"He said you saved his life and that you talked him into seeing me. It's worth a lot to me and his mother.  I'm glad he's got good friends."

"Don't worry about it." Max tried to dismiss the sentiment behind the words even though part of him absorbed them, immediately memorized the inflection and the way Val's father had looked when he'd said them. Like he’d told Val, it was easier being the ex-carny lowlife everyone had him pegged as being.  It kept away any thoughts or desire that he might be needed or by anybody and, truth be told, it was easier if he wasn't. "Val and I just...helped each other out of a jam."

"Good. That's good,” Hugh said with pride evident in his voice and Max wondered for a moment how it might feel to have that pride turned his way before he fiercely reminded himself of the way things worked.  “We taught him if you do right by folks then they'll do right by you most times."

Max watched Hugh disappear out of the room, heard footsteps, and the man reappeared a few moments later with his own cup of coffee.  “Ask you something?” Max said.  If Mr. Everett could ask about Max’s sex life, he reasoned, Max could ask about Val’s home life.  It was only fair. Val had started it.

"I 'spose,” Hugh agreed after a moment.  “You deserve some answers for getting dragged into this and hardly knowing either of us.  Shoot," As he spoke, Hugh started walking around the room.  Something about his son’s friend said he was solid – maybe even trustworthy – but Val was a subject Hugh found hard to talk about any more what with everything that had gone on between them.  As he waited for Max to speak, Hugh looked at the few personal possessions Max had visible.  There weren’t many.  His wallet on the dresser.  A cheap watch.  His eyes settled on a small collection of books and he looked at them, tilting his head to read the titles on the cracked spines.

"You like Jack London?" Hugh asked with a faint smile on his face and approval in the gaze.

"It was given to me when I had some time on my hands. Didn't think I would but, yeah, I did like the book. A lot." Max smiled in memory. The book had been Jimmy's. He'd carried it along with him on countless road trips as they'd criss-crossed the country over the year he'd been with that particular carnival. Shortly after he'd ended up in the hospital, a package with no return address had arrived for him. Max had set it aside for a few days and then slowly opened it, fumbling with his right hand encased in a heavy, unwieldy bandage. Inside had been his clothes and Jimmy's book.

"I liked adventures,” Hugh agreed.  “Three Musketeers, Swiss Family Robinson and such.”

“Never read those.”  Max pushed himself further upright.  “Val did mention your feelings about gays and prostitutes,” he said and forged on when Hugh turned to hold him with a blue-eyed gaze oddly reminiscent of his son’s.  “If you feel that way, why are you here now?"

Hugh looked down and away, anywhere but at Max. When he spoke, his voice was thick and strained. "I told you we heard about the murders in the newspaper.  We know that Val’s friends are dying from that disease….AIDS.  When he was home, we would sometimes hear from him.  Could drive downtown to find him; never thought he’d leave Atlanta.” 

He crossed the room to sit on the trunk again.  “Once upon a time, I believed my way was the right way; the only way.  Now…now I don't have to understand why he is the way he is. I don't understand why he does what he does for a living when he doesn't have to. He’s my son.” 

He stopped and then did look at Max directly. "What I feel or think about his lifestyle doesn't change the fact that he is my son. My flesh and blood no matter what the Church or anyone says. I want him off the streets not because I disagree or disapprove but because I don't want him to die. Got several sons and daughters but I've also buried three children already. I don't intend to bury a fourth if I can help it. That's their job. To bury me. And..." he hesitated. "Because I want him to know I was wrong.”  Hugh shook his head and looked down at his shoes again. “Wrong to reject him like that.  Especially when he was…trying to help. I've confessed that so many times the priest is tired of hearing it," he quietly finished. That was a sin that could only be forgiven by one person.

Max nodded. He guessed it made a kind of sense but he wasn't all that familiar with the idea of redemption, having discounted it for himself a long time ago. "I'm gonna take a shower," he said, feeling the need to get some space from Hugh Everett and his memories.  He got up off the bed very carefully and walked slowly into the bathroom.  Shutting the door behind him, he leaned his forehead against it.  He was so very tired and wanted nothing more than to give up on the shower and crawl back into bed but he couldn’t.  Val’s father was out there and Max had no idea what to do with him. 

Hearing about Val from Mr. Everett and the mix of pain and hope in his voice brought Max to a place he tried to avoid at all possible – the idea of “what-if”.  What if his father hadn’t gone to prison?  What if his mother hadn’t left?  What if he’d grown up in a house with a family and brother and sisters instead of foster homes?  What if he’d never…?

He sighed and grimaced at the twinges in his chest.  It didn’t matter.  What was done was done.  He needed to lock all the “what-ifs” back up in their box and throw it into some dark corner where he would forget all about the fact there were families out there like Val’s.

Max pushed away from the door and turned the shower on so the water could go from freezing to lukewarm while he brushed his teeth.  Some careful movements helped him pull the boxer briefs off and he left them on the floor.  Stepping into the shower, he bent his head and let the water plaster his hair to his head and flow over his body for several minutes before picking up the shampoo.

When he was done, he carefully toweled himself off and managed to pull his underwear back on.  He looped the towel around his neck and carefully adjusted it.  If Hugh had re-stitched his cut then he had already seen the scar but Max desperately wanted some camouflage so the towel stayed where it was.  He ran a comb through his hair and then opened the bathroom door to find Hugh Everett still sitting on the trunk. 

Everett stood up.  “Sit down here,” he said.  “Let me check your ribs.”

“They’re fine,” Max said shortly.

Mr. Everett took a step towards him.  The kid looked better for the shower – less like death warmed over – but Val was right that this Max was stubborn as dried shit.  “I was a medic in Vietnam.  I know what I’m doing.  I’ve cleaned up after more messes than you’ll ever see.  Told my son I’d help you so I’m going to help.  Just let me make sure none of ‘em are worse than bruised or cracked and that’ll be the end of it.”

Max briefly closed his eyes in frustration and then opened them.  “Whatever,” he muttered and sat down on the bed.  Hugh bent over him and the man’s checked shirt filled Max’s vision.  He closed his eyes again and managed not to flinch when he felt Hugh’s fingers gently palpating his chest. 

“Hell of a scar,” came Hugh’s voice near his ear.  “You were lucky.  Only other guy I’ve ever seen get that badly injured lost the arm.”

Max quickly cast about for a change of subject. "How many kids do you have?"

"Seven. Four boys, three girls with Val smack dab in the middle. Buried three, one before and two after Val," Hugh said as if that were just the way things worked. His fingers were deft and sure.  He stepped back after a moment.  “It looks okay.  Lots of bruising and you’re obviously tender and sore but it will get better over the next few weeks.  Keep breathing.  Make them as deep as you can.  That’ll help.” 

“Thanks.”  Max reached for a T-shirt that had appeared on the bed while he was in the shower.  He shook it out and carefully slid it up his arms before ducking his head to find the neck hole.  It probably looked funny but it beat trying to raise his arms right now.  As he did, he heard Hugh ask, “You got family? Brothers or sisters?"

"No. No brothers or sisters, either."

Hugh nodded. "Not Catholic?" he asked but there was no rancor or accusation in the tone. He was trying to figure out the people who knew his son, create identities for them and put the strange things he was encountering in this journey into boxes so he could keep them straight and look at them at his leisure later.

"Not lately." That was the easiest way to put it.

“Fair enough.”  Hugh looked out the window and then at his watch.  Late afternoon.  “We'll get you some dinner. You tell me what's close and I'll go buy."

"That's alright, Mr. Everett," Max said, levering himself off the bed. "I've got some money." He looked around for his pants from last night and hoped to God his wallet was still in there. "You've already gone way beyond the call."  _And when I talk to Val, I’ll be sure to let him know._

Hugh started to protest and thought the better of it. "We'll go Dutch then."

Max found his jeans were folded up on top of the dresser with his wallet lying beside them. He opened it up, and was happy to find the small amount of cash he had still in there and not decorating the gutters of the Quarter.  A thought struck him and he pulled open the small pocket underneath the slot for his driver's license and was relieved when he felt the small wad of newspaper still in there.  He traced his fingers around the shape inside and then carefully unfolded it to reveal a scratched, dull gold ring.  Satisfied, Max folded the newspaper back around the ring and pushed it back into the recesses of his wallet.  He pulled the pants on and shoved his feet in some shoes before going out to where Hugh was waiting in the small kitchen. 

"So what's good food pass for 'round here?"

"Depends on what you feel like eatin'," Max said. "There's a great Chinese place around the corner or there's a pretty decent pizza place 'bout the same amount of distance the other way. Your choice."

"Pizza. Reminds me what a good cook Isabel is," Hugh said with a smile. "Good woman's a blessing, son. Good woman who can cook too is a godsend."

They walked slowly to the pizza place; Mr. Everett, out of respect for Max's injuries and Max because he didn't quite know what he was going to do with this guy until Val showed up. They managed to pass the meal fairly companionably. Neither said much and concentrated on eating. Max made a brief show of temper when Val's father told him there was no way Max was having beer with his pizza - not with his injuries - but acquiesced after a minute, telling himself it was in the name of getting Val and his father together and Max out of it all.

The walk back was also slow and Max began to regret living on the second floor by the time they'd reached his door. Hugh had seemingly known better than to offer help, however, and Max was grateful for small favors as he inserted the key in the lock and swung the door open.

If Hugh was expecting his son to be there, he was disappointed. He hid it well but it was awkward. The sun had been down for an hour when he finally got up, glanced at Max, and gathered his things. "There's no need for me to stay. Not up to you to keep me company," he said stiffly. "Val shows up, you tell him I went back to the motel. I'll be leaving in the morning. You going to be okay?"

"Sure." Max was disappointed too. He thought he and Val had made a deal and he'd kept up his part of the bargain by not dying. He’d even gone beyond what he'd thought was fair.

"I got what I came for. I talked to him and he's okay,” Hugh said and Max wasn’t sure if Hugh was trying to convince himself or both of them.  "I know you're not his messenger service but if you’ll tell him he can call now and again…”  He stopped and then added, “If he wants. You take care of yourself, son,"

He reached into that worn wallet again and took out a battered business card and a pencil and wrote on the back of it, handing it to Max. "You ever get up Atlanta way, you stop by. You'd be welcome and I can always find some work for you," he said gruffly and Max looked at it. The other side was plain with embossed lettering that read “Hugh Everett, Carpentry, General Contractor” and a phone number.

"One more thing," Hugh reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a green plastic bank book. "You give him this if you would. He may need it. You need anything 'afore I go?"

“No.”  Max idly flipped the book open. "Holy shit!" The total in the margins indicated the low five figures; thirty grand to be exact.  And Val was still hooking?

Hugh moved toward the door and Max followed, weirdly reluctant to say goodbye.  For all the confusing feelings meeting Val’s father had engendered in him, there was a part of him that envied Hugh’s way of life.  There was no way he could ever be legit like Hugh Everett, though, and Max filed that thought away along with all the others he was choosing not to investigate.

"Dad." The voice came in from the open window next to the fire escape and both Hugh and Max turned in surprise.

"Valentine?" Hugh took a few steps toward the window.

"Stay there." The voice turned sharp and hard and Hugh stopped, trying to peer out the window. "I need...I need to talk to Max. Can you take a walk? Thirty minutes or an hour. I'll be here."

"Why? Val...” Hugh sounded distressed and took a few steps forward again.

"I know.  I _will_ talk to you. Just give me a half hour." There was stress in Val’s voice now also.

"Are you hurt? That fight you and Max --"

"I'll be fine.  Dad…please.  Take a walk or leave."

"This is ridiculous," Hugh said beginning to get angry. "You get in here! I just want to see you."

"Then take a walk! Dammit! Give me a little time or get out for good. Your choice." Val's voice snapped out.  There was a creak and shuffle on the fire escape. "I made a deal and I'll stick to it.  Please…" The strain in his voice was evident.

Hugh stood there, face flushed as he glanced first at Max and then at the window before visibly swallowing his pride. "All right. I'm going down to get some sodas.  I’ll be back in thirty minutes."

"Thank you." It was almost a whisper and Hugh nodded before turning away from the window and leaving without looking back. 

The door shut and Max turned back to the fire escape. "Everett, I sure hope you know what the fuck you're doing." He could feel himself start a slow burn over the way Val was treating his father - never mind that Max had wavered between thinking Hugh Everett a pretty decent guy or a thorn in his side all afternoon.

"Max, you are going to hate this but I need another favor."

Max sighed. "What? Need me to run down to the corner blood bank for a pint?" The sarcastic edge made the words brittle.

"I need you to take the gauze I left into the bathroom and if you have a long sleeved shirt, I need to borrow it."

"What?" Max planted himself firmly in the middle of the room, arms crossed. "Explain to me exactly what's going on here 'cause I'm not movin' until you do and the clock's ticking, Val."

"I didn't quite make it home this morning and where I got wasn't the darkest place it could have been," Val said and his voice was not as strong as Max remembered.  "Just get the stuff in the bathroom and then...just trust me, man. You don't want to see. Not yet. I would have waited but I didn't want him to think I broke the deal."

Max looked a moment longer at the dark space outlined by the open window and then silently turned, picking up the medical supplies on his way. He placed them in the bathroom and then looked through his closet for a few minutes before finding a dark blue long sleeve T-shirt. He tossed that by the sink and walked back into the main area. "You can come in now," he said.

"Turn around. Find a dark corner for a minute," Val said.

"Nope,” Max said decisively.  “I’m done with playing patsy.  I'm stayin'. You want help and want to make this work? I need to know what the score is so I don't trip up your story."

"There is no story," Val hissed. "I am going to grab a shower, bandage myself up and tell him I am anemic."

"You have no blood and you're gonna tell him you're anemic. That doesn't sound like a story to you?" Max sighed. "Get in here before I get you in here."

A flash of white as Val came in was the first glimpse Max had of him. His face was filthy, the dark hair matted with oil or something and he used his right hand to hook under the window to help himself across. The T-shirt was equally filthy and as Val eased into the window Max could see the tear across the back and a shallow gash across Val's mid-back. It wasn't bleeding but it was raw looking and swollen if that could be the case and the torn cloth was bloody although not as much as one might expect from the size of the cut.

Val came in heavily without his usual grace and Max was suddenly wondering if he should have taken Val's advice. His left arm looked…boiled.  What little skin was left was raw and angry looking.  His fingers were red and blood was slick on exposed, raw muscle along with a blackish, tarry substance and what looked like bone showing near the elbow.  It stopped just shy of his shoulder but there was more blood and stains on his shirt and his jeans. His face was set but Val’s eyes looked glazed and his lips were pressed together as he slightly swayed back and forth.

"Damn, Val." The words sounded puny but there was no way to express what Max felt right then - horror and pity mixed with a feeling of guilt. If Val hadn't been trying to help him, he would have made it home all right and this wouldn't have happened. "What the hell happened to you? Where did you end up?"

"In the ventilation shaft on the roof.  One of the slats wouldn't close and dawn...the sun couldn't have been in position too long.  I fed awhile ago to get past the worst," Val said hoarsely, moving unsteadily toward the bathroom. "I'll have to go again after he’s gone."

Max nodded dumbly and moved aside.  He carefully watched Val so he could offer assistance if it looked like the other man needed it.  Val disappeared into the bathroom and Max watched the door close.  The next thing he heard was the water coming on and then what sounded like a muffled, choked-off scream. 

"Val?" Max called. "You all right?" Getting no answer, he paced back and forth, gnawing on a thumbnail as he watched the bathroom door and waited for it to open.

It took Val nearly the whole thirty minutes to emerge and he looked somewhat better for being clean. The dark shirt made him look paler but you had to look hard to see the bandaging underneath except where he had wrapped it around his hand. There were some small stains still on his side and he was still limping, but the blue cotton sleeves hid most of the rest of the damage. Val eased himself into a chair and pushed his still wet hair off his forehead.

No matter how you looked at him, though, he did not look healthy.

"I'm sorry," Max said. "It's my fault this happened to you."

"Could we not do this, please?" Val said wearily. "I was stupid and careless. It isn't your fault."

"If I hadn't gotten hurt, you wouldn't have had to help me home and you could have made it back to your place in enough time." Leaning against the couch, he looked down at the vampire. The shirt was a bit big on Val and it helped hide the worst of what Max had seen and the gauze did much of the rest of the job but he could see Val was in a fair amount of pain and was tiring quickly. The guy would be lucky if he could hunt down a blind and lame dog.

"Your dad..." he stumbled over the words.  "One of the things he's wondering is if you've got AIDS."

"Yeah, well.  That's to be expected," Val said dully in flat tones.  Then Max’s words seemed to break through."Fuck me.  He thinks that and he'll have me in the hospital if he has to shoot me to get me there!" He rose and nearly fell. "The only thing that will convince him I don't if he sees me will be blood work or a really great lie. Fuck. I _knew_ this was a bad idea!" He glared at Max. God, he was tired and hungry and both were adding to his worries – and his temper.

"So what do we do?” Max asked.  “Go with the anemia story?"

"Something. Mono, maybe.  Shit,” Val sighed.  “Maybe I should tell him I have AIDS and that I don't want anything to do with them." He thought about it as an option, trying to ignore the huge ache in his chest where his heart used to beat. That seemed to be the best answer and he said as much to Max.

"I don't know, Val," Max admitted, sitting down. "All I know is that you seem to be just about the only thing on his mind. There's a lot he wants to tell you, it sounds like. I don't know what he's gonna do or what he's gonna say but...try to listen to him. Huh? At least you can still talk to your dad."

"That was the deal," Val said as if reminding himself. "But this is going to be a short conversation," he mumbled. He made many more deals and there wouldn't be anything left of him. "He likes you, though.  I can tell," he added with the barest trace of a smile as he steadied himself on the chair with his good hand and pushed the bandaged one into his pocket.

"Yeah, well," Max brushed aside. "That's only because he doesn't know me." Before he could say anything else, there was a knock and Hugh called out.

"It's open, dad," Val said, voice sounding steadier as he ran his hand once more through his hair and waited.

Hugh entered with a six pack of cola and nearly dropped it as he saw Val.  For a long moment he was as pale as his son and looked just about as healthy.  "Val...Oh, Jesus, Mary and Joseph. I knew-"

Val swore harshly.  "I don't have fucking AIDS, Dad. I've been sick but it's just...I had mono like 'Dette did. I'm a little anemic and I usually work nights." It came out almost angry enough be believable. "Why do you always have to think the worst?"

"Because it's usually true! Especially where you are concerned!" Hugh snapped back as he set the sodas on the table.

"Well, thank you for coming all the way from Atlanta to tell me that!" Val snarled back.

"Hey!" Max snapped in his best, authoritative bouncer voice and then immediately regretted it.  He bent with an arm wrapped protectively around his chest and took a slow breath before straightening up.  "You both agreed to talk. So talk. Start that fuckin' yelling again and I'll toss you both out on your ass."  _What the hell?_

Hugh stopped in mid-breath and looked at Val, seeing the anger in the pale face and the hurt. "I didn't mean that." he swallowed. "I'm sorry, son. I didn't come down here to yell or fight with you again."

Val nodded.

"I ...you want a soda, Val, Max?" Hugh offered in a very subdued voice.

Max took the soda Hugh offered more to hopefully stretch out the tenuous peace than out of any real thirst.  He sat at the rickety kitchen table and worried the tab back and forth while watching the two men. 

"No. Thanks, Dad," Val said more quietly. "Look, I know why you came here. I'm fine. I appreciate the concern. I don't need anything. I will...I'll call and write. Whatever."

"That would be good,” Hugh said.  “Tree got your present but we read about the prostitute murders and your mother was…we were worried.”  _Start off with a lie and you will never tell him the truth._ "I was worried about you.

Val looked stunned. "I'm fine, Dad," he said at last. "I hadn't gotten settled yet so I didn't write.  I would've eventually dropped a post card if you needed to get in touch with me."

"Would you have?" Hugh asked, surprised. "You never did at home."

"Didn't need to. Father Brewer knew how to get in touch with me if something happened," Val said and dropped his gaze to his shoes.

"Oh," Hugh said. He hadn't known.

"I'm not hustling the streets any more," Val said, trying to offer his father something that was truth but that would also make Hugh Everett go back to Atlanta.  He raised his eyes to his father’s face.  "I have a different job. I work for a club.  It's similar but not the same...as turning tricks." _True.  Well, mostly true_.

"You got off the streets?"

"Yeah," Val said, suddenly angry and hurt all at the same time. "So you don't have to lie about what I do any more. If you ever bothered."

"I don't care," Hugh said. "I haven't for a long time."

Val looked away for a long minute, arms crossed over his chest, leaning against the back of the sofa. "Did she like it?" he asked finally.  “The music box?”

"Yeah, she did. She's going to wear it out." He glanced at Max. "Val, take a walk with me. Just for a bit. Please."

"No. Dad.  This isn’t…we can't fix this with a conversation. Please. I'm okay. Just go home, Dad. I'm fine. Tell them I'm fine."

"Don't you at least want to hear about your family?" Hugh asked.  It was a blatantly cheap shot.  _Just talk to me a little bit. Let me make a start_.

"If something were wrong, you'd have told me already."

"Nothing's wrong," Hugh answered, admitting defeat. He was wounding his son. Again. And Val was cutting right back at him. He didn't have Val's gift with words, scarce as that gift seemed at the moment. "We were just worried."

Things seemed to be at a bit of an impasse. It was like father and son wanted to bridge the gulf that both had helped to create but neither one knew how to start or from where to continue. "Mind if I make an observation here?" Max asked.

"Family counselor," Val muttered at him, then actually smiled a bit at the look Max shot him.

"You," he said, pointing to Val, "don't agree with what he's done with his life.  "You," he pointed to Hugh, "don't agree with what he's doing with his life. Am I following so far?" He knew he was so he didn't wait for an answer. "Since you already agree on this point, y'all think you could stop discussing it over and over?”

"You need to get out of the bar business and get a degree in law," Hugh said gruffly, but there was a quirk to his mouth and a gleam of respect in his eye. "True enough. Past is past," he admitted, looking at his son.

"Thanks.  It’s going to save me the headache that was starting. Now, Val here ain't got AIDS. I can swear to that."  _Just don't ask me how._ "When you were here this afternoon, Mr. Everett, you said a lot of things about Val to me. Think you could say 'em to him?" Max looked at Val. "Think you can shut up and listen?"

Since Val felt like he was about to fall over, he nodded and sat down.

Hugh looked at the two of them knowing the ball was in his court. He took a swallow of the soda and wished for something a hell of a lot stronger. He was not a coward, though. "Val. Son. I didn't come here to tell you how to live your life. I just needed to make sure you were okay. And to tell you to..." Words weren't the way he lived his life. He picked up the bank book and held it out to his son. "I want to give you this.  It's your savings," Hugh said. "It's yours. We don't want it."

His words came out wrong. He saw it in Val's face. "We want you to have it back in case you need it," Hugh tried to explain even as he strangled on his grief. "We've used some. It came in real handy when things got tough.  It was…it was generous of you, Valentine.  But you might need it if…if you get sick or hurt…”  He couldn't stop the spill of words for fear of tears. He hadn't cried since his last child was born.

"I'm not slapping you in the face,” Hugh said, trying to get his meaning across and hoping he was doing better with his third try. “We want you to have the money back to take care of yourself, to start over wherever you want.  If you say you aren't sick, I will believe you.  I do believe you.  But...but you might get sick...even if you aren't ...I don't know if you have found someone...met somebody..." He didn't know how to say this or even if he believed it. He couldn't tell by looking at Val's face what his son was thinking.

"Translation, Val," Max jumped in before the vampire could speak. "He understands what you've done. He appreciates it." He cast a quick look over at Hugh. "He only wants to make sure that you're thinking and providing for yourself as well as for your family." The rest he said slowly and deliberately. "What you do to earn the money doesn't matter. You're his son. That's what's important." Max didn't know whether to be amazed or disgusted with himself with the way he’d apparently jumped into the role of Official Everett Translator.  "Your turn," he said to Val.

Val heard his father and Max, heard how hard they were trying to create some kind of resolution even though there really wasn’t one.   He could say everything his father wanted to hear and it still wouldn't be resolved.

"Dad," Val's voice was soft and low. "Keep the money. I don't need it. I don't. Use it to fix the house or send the kids to college or take Momma on a honeymoon. It doesn't matter. It's yours."

"We'd rather have you," Hugh said. There, it was done. He'd said it as he promised Isabel he would.

_Oh, God. You can't have me, Dad_. Val got up. He moved too fast and his head started spinning. The pain surged and the Hunger came with it. _Hold on_. He looked at Max to try and see if the sudden panic inside him was showing.

"Thank you," he said, the words tumbling out quickly. "I'm staying here for now, Dad. But I'll think about and I...I will keep in touch." He couldn't stop himself. "It means a lot.  It does." He backed up and hit the wall.  The impact, slight as it was, jarred his whole body.

"Val?" his father was watching him worriedly.

"Dad...look.  I need you to go home and let me think. I know you want to talk. I do too," He tried to infuse the last statement with all the honesty he could. "But not now. This is too…too new.  What Max said?  About what you’ve done with your life?  I know you’ve worked hard and I know why.  You just deserve more so, please, keep the money for retirement if nothing else.  It’s why I worked so hard – so you wouldn’t have to.  Don't!" he said sharply as Hugh came toward him.  The shirt was wet and he didn't dare move, remembering Max's blood on the door the night before.

Max watched and determined not to get any more involved than he already had been. Anything at this point was going to be up to Val and his father to figure out and he just hoped they did so without any bloodshed and everyone could just go away and leave him alone.

"Dad, tell me you’ll take the money and I swear I'll come home to visit in a month or so. I'll call or write regular. Make it a deal, Dad. Please. Say you'll do it and then go home."

Make it a deal. It was the family code for the promises that couldn't be broken. It was even a joke at times but not now and Val needed it more than any deal he'd ever made. He watched his father, saw him start to say no, then take a breath and pick up the bank book.

"It's a deal, then," Hugh said and met his son's eyes for a long moment.  His expression hardened a little bit.  "Your momma and I ...we love you, Val."

"I know," Val said but the rest of it didn't want to come out. "You...same here."

"I'll be on the 8 a.m. bus back home. But I'll be at the motel until then."

Val nodded.

Hugh glanced at Max. "That offer still stands. You take care of yourself, Max Griffin." he said and then he was gone, back ramrod straight and not looking back again.

Val pushed off from the wall and moved like a drunk to the window and the fire escape the minute the door closed. He said nothing, leaving Max to stare at the dark black and red smear on his wall as the vampire vanished into the night.

Max shook himself out of his lethargy and walked over to the window, hoisting himself out to sit on the fire escape and stare out into the night. "Family counselor," he muttered to himself. "Shit, Griffin, you know better." Nothing good ever came from getting mixed up with other people.  He was living proof.  _Just stick to your job and whatever else comes your way from the bosses_ , he reminded himself.  _Leave this other crap alone_. He rested his head back against the rungs of the small landing, smelling the oxidized metal as he turned to peer down into the alley at a small sound. _Put it out of your mind_ , he lectured himself again. Max must have been successful because the next thing he knew he was blinking into the morning sun, having fallen asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an independent work based on the concept of the Kindred from the White Wolf World of Darkness Role-Playing Game and Novels. The concept of Immortality and the Game as presented here are the property of Gregory Widen and Panzer/Davis Productions, as are the characters of Duncan MacLeod and Methos (among others.) The Lattice characters and concepts appear here by permission of V. Watts and M. Snowden. All other characters and concepts are the property and creation of thewildmole and V. Watts.
> 
> Maygra and I originally began this saga way back in the dark reaches of the 1990's. We might have called this When Worlds Collide because it is a collision of sorts. Take a World of Darkness RPG, a healthy dose of the original universe set out in Lattice (by Snowden and Watts) and toss in two young men trying to make sense of the world around them, the balances between Chaos and Order, and the need to hold onto their own souls and you have Twin Sons and Different Brothers. Max and Val met by accident -- not unlike their creators. Maygra and I have enjoyed a long friendship apart from this collaboration but it would have never originally happened without this story. Having some time on my hands, I (thewildmole) decided to edit the original work and repost it (something Maygra is fine with). ...
> 
> We warn you now that the language is frequently harsh and the situations harsher. (Rated NC17 for violence, language and sexual situations.) The NPC Characters of Tevis, Madeleine, Crispin and assorted other vampires and inhabitants of New Orleans, belong to original World of Darkness RPG Game Mistress and Goddess Meg Wittenmyer (I think we have her permission.)
> 
> Warning: The following story may be rated G, PG, R, NC17 or even X. It may contain graphic depictions of sex between men or between men and women. I can pretty much guarantee there won't be any sex between people and animals...but nothing is ever 100%. Vampires, Immortals, Jedi and other anomolies are fair game though. There may be violence, graphic violence, nudity, bad language or adult themes. There may be non-consensual sex, rape, partner rape, hurt/comfort, and mental anguish. There may be torture, sadism, masochism, bondage, or bad verb conjugations. There may be death, there may be a major character death. The ending may be happy or it may be really depressing. There may be much affection, cuddling and kissing. There may be an uneasy resolution. Over-the-topness is not guaranteed but is highly probable. There may even be a plot. Or, there may be none of those things. You have been warned.This material may not be copied or distributed without permission--we intend no copyright infringement, make no profit and promise to share. Welcome to the darkside of the soap opera. Comments may be be sent to thewildmole@gmail.com and maygra@bellsouth.net


	5. One Way or the Other

Val hit the roof again over the Bayou, staying off the street as much as possible. He was not in the mood for an encounter of any kind except those of his own choosing.  He waited and watched, saw Max pass off his flyers and head inside. God, he looked like shit.  The hawker was obviously still in a lot of pain and the facial bruises from the alley fight had yet to start lightening from their dark blue and purple color scheme. A few minutes later he heard the back door bang and moved to peer over the side.  He grinned but it faded a minute later as he watched Max cautiously trying to stretch.

He pulled a small paper bag from his pocket and checked to make sure the pills were still in their plastic container.  Snorting a small laugh to himself, Val reached into another pocket and pulled out a small grape lollipop to add to the bag’s contents.  "Yo, Max," he called and waited until the man looked up. "Catch, bro," he said and dropped the small paper bag he was carrying. "Codeine, man. Cures what ails you."

Max looked up at the familiar voice just in time to see the small missile heading his way. Stepping back, he let the package hit the ground rather than trying to catch it but made no move to pick it up. "Traveling the balcony this evening or what?" he asked. Val could get no indicator of his mood from his voice.

"I'm coming down," Val warned and headed for the ladder. He was a little envious of Max's drugs by the time he hit the last rung but it was livable; bearable even. Tevis had been furious but he’d done a good job.  Of course, Tevis’ anger was in no way even remotely close to Madeleine's. For the longest few moments of his life he’d thought she meant her threat and would let him suffer through his stupidity. She was still definitely pissed at him.

He ducked around the corner then hesitated before coming any closer to Max. Val still wasn’t at his best and was having trouble reading the other man's mood. He leaned as casually as he could against the opposite wall. "How's it going?"

"I'm here. Working." Max looked Val up and down. "What about you? You're not exactly dressed to kill." There was a brief flicker in his eyes but he made no apology for the phrase.

Val looked down at himself: clean jeans and Max’s long-sleeved loose knit shirt hid the bandages and the damage done. He shrugged. "Healing up. A couple of days and it’ll be gone.  I might even get a tan line out of it," he added with a chuckle.

"And your handler?" Val was beginning to wonder about his reception. It didn't seem like the Max he'd met and he wasn't sure what the reason was. He didn't see any indication that his friend had used something to take the edge off but Max was hard and closed off in a way Val wasn’t used to encountering in their short friendship.

"I'm on kind of a short leash at the moment," Val said, looking at his boots. "You know, can't sell the goods if the goods are damaged. My boss is a little annoyed. How about you?  They pissed at you?"

"As long as I can work, no one cares." Max rotated his neck slightly. Falling asleep on a fire escape hadn’t exactly done wonders for his body or his mood. He'd woken up and had to crawl back inside where he'd nearly fallen onto the couch and laid there thinking about the whole damn mess. What the fuck had he been doing?

As he'd lain there, his eyes had fallen on Hugh Everett’s business card and the knowledge that Val and part of his family had been sitting there only last night brought up the reminder that Max himself came up rather short in that area and too many others. And, instead of feeling nothing, now he felt angry. He was angry at the evening's events that had pointed out the difference between's Val's family and his non-existent one and he was even more angry that, after all these years, there was still some part of him that cared about all this.

He'd tried juggling in the afternoon but couldn't seem to get the motions smooth enough without his ribs complaining so he'd stopped and spent the rest of the afternoon in the park staring at the river. For the first time in a long time, he really wanted something - could almost taste it. It wasn't like he didn't know where to find it.  Pushers were all around the Quarter. He’d managed to avoid giving in so far but it was getting more difficult the longer the day wore on and the more he hurt.  Smoking – something else he hadn’t done in a very long time – was the placebo he’d chosen for the moment.   

"Your dad came by before he left," Max said, putting a cigarette in his mouth and using the striking of the match as a reason not to look at Val.

"Doesn't surprise me," Val said, looking away for a moment. He'd thought about going by the motel but he had been in neither the mood nor the shape to try and deal with the raw emotions seeing his father had engendered. "What'd did he want?"

"Dunno. He just wanted to say some stuff about last night was all." Max took a drag and coughed slightly as the nicotine hit his lungs. "Man offered me a job."

"That doesn't surprise me either. If you’re interested, you should take him up on it.  He definitely knows who and how to get it for you," Val said.

"Told him thanks, but that I'd have to decline," was the answer followed by a short, humorless laugh. "What'd you think, Everett? I'm no way legit - couldn't be if I wanted to." Max shrugged again.  “’Sides, how could I give up all this?” 

Val looked at him sharply, eyes narrowed. The bitterness in Max's tone was palpable as was the anger and sarcasm.  His new friend was full of self-pity in a way Val found it hard to credit when placed against the guy he’d met only a few nights ago.  "You know, if I hadn't heard you speak half-way intelligently at some point along our acquaintance, I’d think that you’d busted your head and not your ribs," Val said flatly. "Legit is kind of a relative term between us, isn’t it?" Val pushed off the wall and crossed the short distance to stand so close to Max that the odor from the other man’s cigarette overpowered his sense of smell and threatened to make his eyes water.  “Let’s see,” he sneered.  “You’re just a hardcore criminal, right?  Just carrying on the legacy.  And we haven't even gotten to your dad yet, have we?"

"My father was a fuckin' traitor," Max snapped.  He took a drag on his cigarette and blew the smoke into Val’s face. 

"Give it a rest, Max," Val snapped at him and forced himself not to move, to barely even blink at the acrid smoke that flooded his face. "You want to be trapped by your past, fine. But you make damn sure you know it’s you staying there 'cause you like it. It’s so much fucking easier to decide you are worthless shit than anything else ‘cause then no one expects anything from you.  Hell, you don’t even have to expect anything from yourself."

"And just why the hell should I?" came the retort. "I know what I am. Bottom of the food chain. Carny trash.  Murderer.  Ain't nothin' here so just turn around and keep on lookin'."

"So why do you keep climbing on rooftops, then Max?" Val said with a snarl and backed Max up against the wall.  The cigarette dropped to the ground to smolder between them.  "Why do you keep trying to prove you can face your fear of heights? Why prove it if you're worth nothing?  If you can never have anything?" Val snapped. "Is it ‘cause you like the thrill? You like remembering what it was like on top of that rollercoaster with those assholes dangling your virgin ass a hundred feet off the ground?" Val was furious and he was angriest at himself for having dragged Max out of his emotional hibernation.  It wasn’t because he thought Max better off there but because Val was probably the worst person in the world to help him get through it.

That was going into territory Max barely acknowledged to himself. "Nothing you need to know about, Everett," he said and tried to push past him.

"Let's see, tough guy," Val said coldly and grabbed Max.  The startled look on Max’s face would have been funny if Val wasn’t so angry. "Forgot about this part, didn't you, asshole?" he said with a certain manic glee as Max tried to break free. A fist raked his sore side and he snarled, grabbing Max by his hair and shoving him to his knees. "Four linebackers is a little much for me on a good day, but you?  You, Max, aren't even a challenge on a bad day."   Looking at Max, Val saw the first pricklings of fear in the other man's face. _Good_. It was still there. Dying was not on the top of Max's list of things to do tonight.

Val pulled him up and pushed him back against the wall again, hard enough to make Max gasp in pain from his sore ribs but not enough to do any real damage – he hoped. He needed Max a little stunned because he was having a bad night and this was going to hurt for both of them. Max was still recovering his breath when Val grabbed him, set his shoulder against Max’s torso and lifted.  He could do this one more time but Max would have to get down on his own – one way or another.  "Hold on, Batman," Val said, deliberately reminding Max of their first meeting and was halfway up the ladder before Max could recover.

He didn't scale the Bayou's three story height but went for the taller building next to it. Val had been up there and it was perfect for what he wanted unless, of course, Max utterly freaked on him, but Val had a plan for that as well. 

His arm was already starting to feel the strain when Max began to struggle in earnest.  "You fight, you fall, Max," Val said coldly as he continued to climb.

Max didn't fight as much as he might have after that remark but, knowing where Val was injured, he did make it much more uncomfortable for the vampire. When they reached the roof, Max found himself unceremoniously dumped on his ass and pulled himself up to a standing position as quickly as he could.

"What the fuck are you so pissed off about?" he asked furiously.

"Pissed off? Do I look pissed off?" Val said slowly, staring at the man. "You haven't seen me pissed off yet, Max. Thought I'd test your resolve a bit.  You know, a little shake up to see how much bullshit one man can hold inside. Like it up here, Max? Nice view.  Nobody to bug us.  Nobody to give a shit what happens to you which was what you were saying down there, wasn't it?" Val said.  He pointed to his left. "Roof door is locked. Two ways down. The way we came up or the one way version."

Max glanced around the rooftop. He could see the flat area of the Bayou's roof over Val's shoulder as the tell-tale signs of the familiar panic started to set in.  He was finding it harder to breathe, his heart started to beat faster and his stomach was knotted up tight. "I assume there's some kind of point you're just dyin' to make here," he drawled out coldly, crossing his arms over his chest.  He made himself look at Val despite the small shivers he could feel running up and down his body.  Val had seemed friendly before and almost pathetic last night but this…this was more in line with the dangerous version of Val he’d met in the alley and let himself forget. 

"There's a point," Val said and smiled. It wasn't particularly pleasant and he made no attempt to hide the sharp white teeth. "Here it is:  this all about choices, Max. We had an incredibly long conversation about it just the night before last but you seem to have forgotten the whole part about how we live and why. So we’re going back to the basics.”

He paused and stepped slightly to Max’s right in order to give the other man a more panoramic view of the sky-high shit Max was in.  “There are two ways down. To get to the ladder you have to convince me I should let you.  If you don’t – or if you choose not to – I’m going to let you revisit the other way.  I believe it’s about a five story drop. How you get down is up to you just like how you live your life. Choose the ladder?  It takes a little effort, a little concentration, some will. The other way is easier but you’ll never get another chance to change your mind.” 

Val let out a low laugh of pure malice. "By the way, don’t even think about trying to wait me out until dawn.  This decision has to be quick or I'll make it for you." And, although he wouldn’t admit it, the climb to the roof had cost him more than he thought it would and Val was working not to let it show.  He didn’t want Max making a decision because he felt guilty or because he thought he could bullshit Val when Val was not in the best shape himself.  Plus, his babysitters were probably going to come looking for him soon and Val remembered Max had some acquaintance with Maddie but he didn’t want to put his friend any further on her radar.  He also figured the dubious blessings of being a vampire meant he could still take Max but he also knew Max’s punches and kicks had done some damage.  Besides, they _hurt_.  For being solely human, the man had a wicked hook when he wanted to. 

Max decided he’d reached his limit.  Whatever debt he owed Val for saving his life was paid.  Maybe his life sucked but it was _his_ and he got to decide where it should go and for how long.  Not some vampire or his do-gooder father.  Deciding the release of all the pent-up frustration was worth how he was going to feel when the adrenaline wore off, Max balled up his fist and swung. It would have been a good shot – very good – except for a new fact of vampire life that Max was introduced to: preternatural speed.

Val saw it coming and blocked it the same way he had blocked a similar punch in the alley fight.  He gripped Max’s fist hard enough to feel the bones protest.  "Bad argument, Max," he purred.

Seconds later, Max found his good arm twisted behind his back and the upper portion of his body dangling over the roof. He tried to shut his eyes but the sight of the street below and fact half his body was hanging out over open space overrode reason.  Since he wasn't in control of how he was using the height, Max's panic sprang out full-blown and he started blindly kicking or pulling at Val to get him to let go.

"This is the choice, Max!" Val snapped out as he tried to keep a good grip on Max. He leaned in, putting weight on Max's bent legs, and hooked his other hand in the man's jeans. Max got in a solid kick along his side and Val almost pulled him back and declared the lesson to be over. But it wasn't.  Not yet. 

He clamped down on the pain and spoke again, bending to put his lips next to Max’s ear. "If you've got nothing better to look forward to than what you had, if you're not worth anything, then you’re just breathing air the rest of those good folks down there might need.”  He pushed Max against the ledge again, forcing his torso down towards the ground.  Is that it, Max? You aren't worth anything so who cares? Is it a thrill like it was the first time?”  He could hear Max struggling to pull in panicky, gasping breaths.  His eyes were squeezed shut.  “You keep walking these ledges ‘cause you want to get up the courage to step off? Open your eyes!" he snarled and bent Max’s arm up his back until Max did so. "Do you see her? Do you see Rebecca? The dead people are down there. You see your dad? Is he down there? You want to join them, Max? You want to die and be with them?"

Max tore his eyes away from the view of the street below and tried to quell the sickening sense of vertigo, the feeling he was falling even though he knew Val was holding on to him.  Bile rose up, sour and sharp, and filled his mouth.  He spat and felt it dribble down his chin.  And still Val held him there.  "No," he squeezed out finally. "I don't want to die."

"I didn't think so," Val said more softly and pulled them both back.  Max clutched at him in a panic as they moved and Val let him. "So now that you’ve made the choice to live, you get a whole new set of choices about how you live," Max was lying against the roof ledge, gasping through waves of panic and fear.  Val kept a hand on Max’s leg, his shoulder, his arm; anywhere to let Max feel something solid.  "But the drop's still there, Max. It's not going away. Most times all you can do is hold on...or hope someone else is there to hold on to you."

Val held on while Max seemed to decide whether or not he needed to vomit. He halfway expected Max to turn on him the minute he calmed down and Val figured he deserved it for the stunt he’d just pulled on his friend.  Hell, his defense might even give Max some satisfaction. When Max pushed away from him to wipe his chin, Val let him go and moved away.

"You asked me the other night what my stake was in this, in you. This is it, Max. My dad didn't offer you a job out of pity.  He did it ‘cause he’s got you pegged as the kind of guy who sticks his hand out once in awhile and helps somebody. Like you did me...You don’t do it every time and neither do I. 

When you jumped to that roof, I caught you. I wanted to fall last night and you held on. You won't always be there for me, Max, and I won't always be there for you.  But every time you fall, you gotta reach for it, man. Could be somebody waiting to catch you or just give you a hand up – but not if you don’t reach for it.” 

Val fell silent. It was both too many words and not enough.  Max had said nothing and Val didn't blame him. Standing on the other side, it felt like a stupid stunt more than anything else. He moved back another step and hissed at a sharp pain in his side.  _Fuck._ What had he done now? He didn't remember anything particularly but he felt light headed.  Tevis had warned him his ribs would be fragile from the desiccation. He’d have to check on that later.  Right now, however, they needed a way off the roof and Val didn’t have the stomach to watch Max try to deal with a ladder right now.  Looking around, he saw the door that led to the staircase and went over to it.  He wrapped his fingers around the handle and pulled experimentally.  Locked up tight.  He gripped the handle more firmly and yanked once, twice, before he heard the deadbolt snap and the door swung open.  He turned to find Max rolling to his hands and knees.

"The day..." Max started and then coughed and spit before trying again.  "The day I...fell had been a pretty good day. I was seventeen. On my own. It was summer. We were just finished workin' and layin' around gettin' high. I knew exactly who I was that day."

Val leaned back against the open door and let Max have his say, trying to concentrate and feeling a bit detached at the same time.

Max stood up slowly and looked out into the night sky.  "I never saw that kid again. Probably wouldn't even recognize him today." A sound that might have been a laugh escaped him and floated back towards Val. "I woke up in the hospital and just _knew_ that I was different. I had no idea who this new Max Griffin was and I still don't think I have the answer."

"Then maybe you should stop looking at where you've been and start looking at where you are," Val said quietly.

""Maybe," Max allowed.  "And as far as standing on ledges and seeking out heights goes?" Max turned to look at Val. "Yeah, I do it partially because I need to know I can, that I can beat it and beat the bastards that did this to me." He sighed and looked away again. "The other part," he said quietly, "is, sometimes, when I'm standing here, I can see this seventeen-year-old kid who felt like he had everything before him and hope that someday the 24-year-old will feel the same way."

"You can,” Val said soothingly.  “Just a few more miles behind you is all." Val stiffened as Max moved toward the ledge. If he went, Val was not sure he could get to him in time but he moved cautiously toward Max and almost fell.

Taking a breath, Max stepped up on the ledge again. "Don't worry, Everett. I'm not gonna jump or anything like that." Val watched as Max just simply stood there a moment before looking down. He could see the other man's eyes shut tightly in denial of what he was seeing before they opened again and he managed to gaze down at the scene below him, the only clue to his nervousness the fists in his pockets and the rapid heartbeat only Val could hear.

He finally stepped down and walked over to where Val was. "Let's take the ladder, huh?"

Val smiled and almost laughed. "After I went to all this trouble to open the entrance to the executive washroom?" he said, tossing his head toward the door.

Max looked closer at Val. "You look like death warmed over."

Val groaned and not all of it was at the bad joke. "Max, I am the textbook definition of death warmed over,” he said with a chuckle and then stopped when even that much hurt.  What the hell was wrong with him?

Max shrugged and Val could see the glint in his eye. "Sorry," he said, not entirely sincerely. "You, uh, you need to eat?"

"Probably. It'll hold until I can find somebody or get home," Val said, praying he was right. He felt definitely odd but not hungry. "Come on, Batman."

Max stared at the vampire for a long time.  He was back to that weird pull he felt when he was near Val, the desire to trust the other man far beyond anyone else he had ever run across.  "What about me?" he finally asked.

Val stared back.  He found he was doing that a lot with Max.  The guy constantly surprised him.  After all that had happened, this was a level of trust Val had not expected and wasn't sure he deserved.  He had just held the man upside down over the side of the building, for Christ's sake!

But he hadn't dropped him. He hadn't let go.

"Max," he started.  His voice cracked but he managed to meet the green eyes squarely. It would be easier, faster, and he might not end up falling down the stairs rather than walking down them. There was one good thing about learning to feed the way Val had and that was unless he was really hungry, his control was absolute.  He could take enough to steady him out without even really affecting Max but he had to be sure why Max was offering.  That was important.

"Is this a choice, Max? Or an obligation?" he asked quietly.  His friend's heart was racing with either fear or anticipation or just adrenaline. "Or are you making a pass at me?" Val asked and grinned at him when he saw the startled look in Max's eyes and watched his features shift from surprise to resigned amusement.

"Yeah, right," Max responded. "All this rooftop shit has shown me the way." He rolled his eyes at Val and shifted from foot to foot before asking, “So....you wanna take me up on it?"

"Yeah. I don't think you're in any shape to carry me down and to be honest? I'm not sure I will make it. I feel funny. Not hungry. Just...I dunno," Val said.

"Well, I'd offer you my codeine but you seem to have left 'em behind," Max pointed out. He was nervous and had no idea what to expect.  His only real experience with a feeding had been Yvette’s hysterics and a quick view of the guy she’d fed on.  That had been enough to make Max lose his appetite and nearly his dinner.  Still, he had made the offer and he was going to keep his hand out for Val.

Val moved unsteadily to where Max stood and watched him swallow as his fingers pulled at the neck of his shirt. "Max," Val shook his head. "You've watched too many bad horror films." He caught Max's uninjured hand and turned it over to expose the paler skin of his wrist. "You can look away," Val offered. "It won't take long."

Max breathed as deeply as he could. "Nope," he said. "Just...have at it."

The instinct to make it pleasurable rose hard – literally and figuratively - and Val shoved it down. He concentrated on making neat punctures with the idea that Max should feel something less than a pinprick. His tongue touched the skin and then there was blood.

It was sweet and Val almost lost his concentration.  He cut his eyes to Max to check for a reaction and, not seeing one, allowed himself to suck just a bit and fill his mouth with blood.  He could taste the nuances.  He knew no other way to express what he felt from his meals but he could detect a little fear, a little fatigue and a hint of the beer Max must have had earlier.  But other than that, Max was just sweet, vital and more than a little heady.  _Down, boy.  His church, your church.  Let's not mingle except on Sundays._ It was helping, though. His brain was clearing and while the pain in his body became sharper for a long moment, it eased back to the same dull, burning ache he’d been feeling all night. 

Max stood absolutely still, not daring to move. His eyes were riveted on Val’s head bent over his wrist. He’d only felt something moist and then a sensation similar to the few times he'd used a needle, only not quite as sharp. Now there was nothing except Val’s dark head bent over his wrist.  A slight breeze stirred the heavy night air and Max watched it ruffle Val’s shoulder length hair.  He felt an odd urge to smooth it down and forced it back. Instead, he raised his eyes to the night sky and concentrated on the skyline until he felt Val let go of his wrist and step back.

He licked again and lifted his mouth, making sure there was no blood that could be seen. He rubbed his thumb lightly over the two small welts, already fading, and glanced at Max.  "B positive, I think, " he said and grinned.

"A positive, thank you very much." Max resisted the urge to run his fingers along the minuscule welts. "You okay now?"

Val nodded. He still felt a little shaky but he wasn't going to press his luck or this strange and tentative friendship they had forged by getting greedy. He was still shaken by the level of trust Max had shown. "Yeah.  I could probably go three rounds with the frat boys again," he joked before his voice softened. "Thanks…a lot."

"No big deal." Max shrugged one shoulder.  The odd intimacy of the feeding made him feel unsettled but it wasn’t something he really wanted to talk about right now.  He needed to think about it – and his reaction. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," Val said. _Like you don't already know more about me than most people_.  He flexed his left arm a bit and felt the cloth pull on the partially healed but still tacky flesh.

"What's the difference between this -" He held up his arm to Val. "and this?" Max pointed to his neck.

"I, uh, I really don't know," Val admitted, a little surprised at the question.  He started to elaborate on the length and breadth of his non-knowledge of vampire traditions when he heard a sound and glanced around the roof to try and locate it. He cocked his head slightly and heard it again – a slight grating of metal.  He drew back towards the door and pulled Max back with him.   

"Odd as it sounds, after four years, what I don't know about being a vampire would probably fill a couple of thick volumes,” Val said, trying to speak and listen at the same time.  “For the neck, depending on how hard I…drink, I can pretty much guarantee a corpse in about five minutes. It takes longer if I just let the blood flow.  It’s the best…fastest for killing if you want that.  But I’ve also figured out it’s the best for a feeding fast if I just want the, well, the rush for me and my…partner,” he finished, finding another word for ‘victim’ at the last second.  “Don’t know why.  Maybe it’s proximity to the heart?”

He hesitated before continuing, wondering how much Max wanted to know.  "If you want something more than to just feed, it's a great place to start," he said and let Max chew on it for a moment. _Let him have both sides. He’s a grownup_. "I can feed off any part of the body that there is a vein close to the surface. The wrist is easiest but the neck and ..." He stopped himself. He wasn't sure Max was ready to hear *that* bit of Val's School of Vampire Training. Then again, why not?  "There's some other places that will..." Val paused and flashed a full, wicked smile. "Let me put it this way, Max. If every hooker and hustler were a vampire, they could turn twelve tricks a night and never break a sweat.  Done right, a bite can push somebody over the edge and into nirvana in about ten seconds.  At least on my watch.”  Val had little use for false modesty.

"Really?" Max's voice rose a little at the end. "No shit?"

"No shit," Val said wryly. "I love great sex but I severely underestimated 'great' before I became a vampire.”  Val decided even if Max was an adult that was enough show and tell from his side.  As far as he knew, his own little problem with feeding was, if not unique, rare, and he didn’t think Max really wanted to know the unintentional effect he had on Val.  "You know how your ribs feel right now?"

Max nodded. Adrenaline and fear had muted constant ache and pain but it was starting to return with a vengeance.  He spared a wistful thought for the meds that were lying on the ground at the back door of the Bayou.

"Multiply that by about a thousand. It may not be like that for every vampire but it is for me.  It's like having broken glass in your insides and when I’m like that or even close, any warm body is food until I eat; doesn’t matter who it is.  Keep it in mind, Max. There is no finesse about it," Val said darkly. "It's why I left so quickly the other night.  You were starting to look like dinner. There is no thought in the Hunger, only the need to feed."

Max nodded again. He'd seen where Val looked like he was holding onto his sanity by his fingernails while talking to his father and the thought of being seen as a meal was not entirely comforting. However, Val was still a person and had managed to come closer to Max and know more about him than anyone had in a long, long time.

He tried to smile and act as though the vision of Val in the alley feeding off the college kid wasn’t front and center in his head.  "Just tell me so I have half a chance to get my ass out of there, huh?"

Val heard the sound of feet on gravel. He and Max were blocked from view by the open door but a quick glance showed him two dark shapes on the Bayou's roof. He pulled Max into the stairwell and put his hand over the other man's mouth. "Quiet!" he hissed and removed his hand. "You get down and go back to work. My babysitters have found me," he said and moved toward the door way.

"What babysitters?" Max made as if to rise, ignoring Val's whispered orders.

"Max!" Val's voice was barely a whisper. "This is not a 'united we stand' situation. Madeleine's two gorillas are on the Bayou roof looking for me. They are not going to hurt me.  They just want to make sure I don’t stray or pick up any strays.  She isn’t happy but all she’s doing is yanking my leash a bit.”  Max was listening but Val thought he still looked slightly mutinous.  “This is not one you want to get in the middle of, okay?  Those two can and will make mincemeat out of both of us without hardly trying. The folks you work for have their muscle and my boss has hers. Difference is my bosses don't want anyone to know they exist."

That was language Max understood: bosses and underlings.  He reluctantly nodded.  “If I don’t hear from you in forty-eight hours, though, I’m gonna go and knock on Maddie’s door,” he promised.  “So you think about that when you toy with the idea of doin’ something else to yank back.” 

Val sighed and nodded before he stepped away from Max and out into full view.  “Hiya boys. Looking for me?" His voice was falsely cheery and Max could only see him through the crack in the door.

The two Neanderthals headed for the ladder and Val made his decision. He backed up again and ran, launching off the roof like he could fly. The buildings were fairly close but it was close to a thirty foot drop from the roof of one to the other. He didn't care. If he broke a leg his handlers would just have to carry him home. 

He didn't but it was close. The left leg gave out again and he landed hard, rolling as he did, but getting up was much more of a struggle than he wanted it to be as was paying any attention to anything they said as Bubba One and Bubba Two hauled him upright. Two hit the ladder first and One shoved Val toward it, grabbing his arm when his leg gave out. He was irrationally glad that One was below him if he slipped. It was nice to know Big Bubba would be there to break his fall just before he decided to break something else.

Val never looked at the other roof.

Max waited until he heard the steps and the commentary fade before moving cautiously out of the stairwell and back onto the roof, making himself count to fifty before he walked over to the ledge and looked down; nothing to see in any direction. Val was with his handlers and Max knew he'd better get back downstairs before Sammy the Snake came in and found him missing. Sammy was eternally suspicious of anyone who wasn't where Sammy thought they should be at any particular moment. Grasping the rungs, he climbed back down into the alley. It seemed so incredibly quiet compared to the noise that he knew would burst out into the night the moment he opened the back door to the Bayou.

When he reached the back entrance, Max grasped the door handle but stopped before pulling it open.  He wanted a few more minutes of quiet before having to take a deep breath and dive back into a world that was starting to become less satisfactory each day now that he’d caught a glimpse of other possibilities on the horizon.  They were too far away for him to make out anything other than a blurred shape or the beginnings of an idea but they were there, starting to take up more space in his head and crowding out the rules he’d lived by for so long.

Looking down, he saw the bag Val had dropped and carefully leaned over to pick it up.  He opened it to pull out the promised codeine and snorted when he saw the grape lollipop lying next to the small amber pill bottle.  He took both of them and shoved them into a picket. 

Val was certainly not someone Max would have ever picked out of a lineup as someone who might be a friend.  Yet there was something there linking the two of them and he thought Val felt the same.  It was a little odd yet also somewhat comforting to have somebody watching his back and maybe…maybe it was worth a little pain for something like that. 

His musings were interrupted by Jack shoving open the door for a smoke break and Max stumbled back to get out of the way.  “Mike’s looking for you,” Jack said as he lit a cigarette.  “Said somethin’ about Sammy stopping by later.”

Max sighed and shoved his hands in his pockets.  His fingers touched the cellophane wrapped around the lollipop and it restored a little of the good feelings that had been dashed at Jack’s words.  “Yeah, okay,” he said.  He took one look back up towards the sky and stepped back into the Bayou, closing the door behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an independent work based on the concept of the Kindred from the White Wolf World of Darkness Role-Playing Game and Novels. The concept of Immortality and the Game as presented here are the property of Gregory Widen and Panzer/Davis Productions, as are the characters of Duncan MacLeod and Methos (among others.) The Lattice characters and concepts appear here by permission of V. Watts and M. Snowden. All other characters and concepts are the property and creation of thewildmole and V. Watts.
> 
> Maygra and I originally began this saga way back in the dark reaches of the 1990's. We might have called this When Worlds Collide because it is a collision of sorts. Take a World of Darkness RPG, a healthy dose of the original universe set out in Lattice (by Snowden and Watts) and toss in two young men trying to make sense of the world around them, the balances between Chaos and Order, and the need to hold onto their own souls and you have Twin Sons and Different Brothers. Max and Val met by accident -- not unlike their creators. Maygra and I have enjoyed a long friendship apart from this collaboration but it would have never originally happened without this story. Having some time on my hands, I (thewildmole) decided to edit the original work and repost it (something Maygra is fine with). ...
> 
> We warn you now that the language is frequently harsh and the situations harsher. (Rated NC17 for violence, language and sexual situations.) The NPC Characters of Tevis, Madeleine, Crispin and assorted other vampires and inhabitants of New Orleans, belong to original World of Darkness RPG Game Mistress and Goddess Meg Wittenmyer (I think we have her permission.)
> 
> Warning: The following story may be rated G, PG, R, NC17 or even X. It may contain graphic depictions of sex between men or between men and women. I can pretty much guarantee there won't be any sex between people and animals...but nothing is ever 100%. Vampires, Immortals, Jedi and other anomolies are fair game though. There may be violence, graphic violence, nudity, bad language or adult themes. There may be non-consensual sex, rape, partner rape, hurt/comfort, and mental anguish. There may be torture, sadism, masochism, bondage, or bad verb conjugations. There may be death, there may be a major character death. The ending may be happy or it may be really depressing. There may be much affection, cuddling and kissing. There may be an uneasy resolution. Over-the-topness is not guaranteed but is highly probable. There may even be a plot. Or, there may be none of those things. You have been warned.This material may not be copied or distributed without permission--we intend no copyright infringement, make no profit and promise to share. Welcome to the darkside of the soap opera. Comments may be be sent to thewildmole@gmail.com and maygra@bellsouth.net


	6. Welcome to What If

As the plane touched down, Max decided that this might not have been the best plan.  It hadn’t sounded at all bad in theory:  take a few days vacation, get out of New Orleans and relax.  He could do that. It was just now, with the plane touching down, that he had to deal with the fact that this vacation was taking place with Val’s family.  He hadn't seen or talked to Val's father since making his acquaintance at the Bayou but Val had taken ample opportunity to fill Max in on the rest of the Everett clan and the idea of so many people living under one roof made Max's head spin.  Still, he’d agreed to this idiot idea in a moment of weakness and now he was stuck.

Even packing was different when Val got involved.  The vampire had found Max packing one – _one_ – T-shirt that had a barely visible declaration regarding some county jail or another and had taken over.  He’d gone through the meager contents of Max’s closet while Max stood in the doorway and protested the invasion of privacy. 

 _Yay_ , he sourly thought as the flight attendant welcomed them all to Atlanta. He decided he’d try to say as little as possible and be around as seldom as possible while they were here. As far as Max was concerned, the less attention paid to him the better and he was already sure he was going to stick out like a sore thumb.

He sighed while the flight attendant continued her spiel and thanked everyone on board for flying United.  _Whatever_.  Maybe he could trade in his ticket for a return trip on the red-eye.  _And monkeys will fly out my ass,   Like Val will even let me out of his damn sight_. His partner on this little venture seemed bound and determined to introduce him to family life.

"Max," he heard Val say and looked up to see the other man standing in the aisle. "The stewardesses can't leave until we do." Barely suppressing a groan, Max stood up and yanked his bag out of the overhead compartment and tried to ignore the amusement playing across Val’s features.  "Thought you were my friend," he groused just for form's sake.

"I am," Val agreed. "That's why we're here."

The guy who had no family to speak of was about to get a crash course.

 

*****

 

Theresa saw them first, clamping her hand over her mouth as she glanced back at the house and saw that everyone had gone in. Her jar of fireflies was dropped and she ran without even stopping to check the street.

Val caught her as she leapt at him despite the fact that she wasn't five any longer. He staggered, holding her close as her arms tightened around his neck and her long legs wrapped around his waist.  He buried his face in her long, dark hair and realized she was crying.

He smoothed her hair. "Don't, Tree. God, I hate it when you cry.  You sound like a constipated duck."

She choked and then giggled before uncrossing her legs and letting them fall until her feet touched the ground.  However, Tree still clung to his neck for several long moments before releasing him.  When she was finally looking up at him, he could see the tear streaks on her face and red nose. 

"Here," he said and gave her his handkerchief to wipe her nose.

"I got your present. It's beautiful," she said softly as she wiped at her eyes. "You’re in New Orleans?" The way she said it sounded to Val like she was asking about the moon.  Then again, the farthest she’d probably been so far was to the Blue Ridge Parkway to see the leaves change.

"Yeah," he said with a grin and nudged her to turn towards Max, who was apparently finding the row of houses on the street to be of great interest. "Theresa, this is Max Griffin. He's a friend-"

"Dad talked about you when he got back!" she interrupted and Val laughed as Max found himself the extremely surprised recipient of a full body hug. 

"Thank you for looking out for him,” she whispered in his ear before releasing him.  She smiled at Max and then stepped back to link an arm through Val’s.  “Momma and Daddy are going to be so surprised to see you,” she said to her brother, starting to chatter about names Max vaguely recognized from Val’s description of his family. 

The two-person conversation and the walk gave Max time to try and recover and also check out another member of Val’s family.  If he remembered right, Val’s little sister was seventeen.  She and her brother looked a lot alike with near black, curly hair and wide-set blue eyes.  The main differences were Theresa’s hair, which fell to the middle of her back, and there was a light dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose.  And…she had curves.  Very nice curves that Max tried very hard not to think about.  This was his friend’s _sister_ , for shit’s sake.

When they reached a white and gray two-story, Theresa looped her free arm through Max’s and pulled them up the steps and on to the porch as she yelled "Momma! Daddy! Early Christmas!"

Max winced both at the volume and at the inclusion of himself in this supposed 'early Christmas' but let himself get dragged inside along with Val.  As they entered, he had an impression of a large group of people turning to look at their entrance. The three of them abreast, as Tree had linked them, wouldn't all fit through the door so they were forced to turn and Max had to enter first. He glanced around quickly, enough for first impressions, and saw Hugh Everett before looking down at a braided rug on the floor and waiting for Tree to pull Val up into the loop.

When Val was in the room, Max chanced another look up and tried to make sense of the grouping before him.  There seemed to be a large age range that encompassed pre-teen to Max’s and Val’s ages up to Val’s parents.   Tree finally let go of his arm and he gratefully pulled away, his right hand back in his pocket by habit.

Max watched what he thought was Val’s mother hug her son with tears and laughter.  As he tried to move even further towards the door, he felt a hand and take his and pull.  He looked down to see Theresa at his side, smiling.  She pulled him to the side while her siblings moved in on Val. It rather reminded Max of the shark feeding frenzy he’d seen on a nature program once.

"They'll calm down in a bit," Theresa said to him and then began giving him a blow by blow of her family members.  She named her mother, Isabel, and each of her siblings.  Frank and Patrick were Val’s older brothers and built like their father; muscular, husky men with short haircuts and a more reserved manner. They both greeted Val with smiles but only Frank gave him a brief hug. Bernadette was Val’s older sister and Max had to admit she was pretty hot.  She had the same hair and coloring as Val and Theresa but she had obviously invested a lot time and effort in styling and makeup whereas Tree’s look was more natural.  Val’s little brother and sister, Tim, looked like he was going to be another carbon copy of Hugh, but Agnes, Val’s little sister, was the odd duck of the family with light blond hair.  Both the younger siblings held back from the impromptu family reunion, unsure of this brother they had only heard about before. 

"Max." Hugh was in front of him with his hand extended and Max had to free his hand from Theresa in order to shake it. "I am glad you decided to come. Isabel..." he called and his wife turned.

It was easy to see from whom Val had gotten both his looks and coloring.  Isabel Everett was tiny – especially compared to her husband – and wore her own dark hair up in a bun.  Her skirt and blouse were neat and pressed and Max heard an unmistakable Italian accent as she greeted him by catching his face in her hands and pulling him down to kiss his cheek.   "You are so very welcome in our home, Max," she said with a smile.

"Frank!" Hugh's voice cut through the crowd.  “Who is watching the grill? And do we need to throw more burgers-"

"Got 'em" Theresa's voice sang through.

There were more introductions and then everyone began to move toward the back of the house. Max stood his ground as the sea of Everetts ebbed and flowed around him.  He breathed a sigh of relief when Val appeared to stand in front of him again.  The vampire waved his family on and Isabel hesitated but then nodded. "You come out back when you are ready," she said, dark eyes bright.

"Round one.  Still standing?" Val asked with a grin.

"Barely," Max answered. His senses felt bludgeoned. Everything was bright and sharp here; colorful.  People fell all around each other and didn't seem to mind the constant noise and chatter. It was almost like when he'd been tripping. "What's on the agenda now?"

"Dinner.  Uhm...burgers and potato salad and a zillion questions," Val answered.

"Oh, man." He had to sit with all these people and eat? And make conversation? What was he gonna talk about? The relative merits of Yvette's dancing as opposed to Maggie's? Val gave him a longsuffering look and Max slowly began to move towards the back of the house.

"Try," Val whispered, "to not look as though you're walking to your execution, huh?"

Max elbowed him but did pick up the pace just a bit.  He held the screen door open for Val and the two walked down the few steps to the backyard where everyone else was gathered. Hugh and his wife looked up expectantly as his son and Max came near.

"Mr. Everett," Max said, "Mrs. Everett...”  He cast about for something to say.  Something nice.  Something _short._ “Ummm…thanks for inviting me."

"You are welcome," Isabel said. "It has been a long time since Val has brought a friend home." What was left unsaid was that it had been a long time since Val had been home at all. "And you call me Isabel.  Him,” she pointed to Hugh with a saucy smile, “you call Hugh.  You aren't one of Theresa's little friends."

There was no way Max was ready for that type of familiarity so he just nodded, took an offered soda and watched the rest of the people.  Dinner was ready a short time later and he found himself at a large table with Tree next to him and Val directly across. The vampire seemed to find this rather funny if the way he kept pursing his lips to avoid smiling as he glanced between Max and Tree was any reflection.

A plate with a rather large hamburger was set in front of him and Max knew that there was no way he was going to be able to pick that up and eat it with one hand. Sighing to himself, he pulled his other hand out of his pocket and started to eat, keeping his eyes on his food if only to avoid that slightly superior smirk Val was now wearing.

Watching Max, Val kept the teasing grin on his face and needled his friend when he got the chance. Besides just being fun, it was also a good barometer for Max’s mental state since a Max who could still pop off a smart-mouthed comment was doing okay. He understood the strain, though, feeling a little overwhelmed himself.  He had grown up with this circus but it had been a long time since he’d been part of it.  He hadn't realized how much he missed it or how hard it would be to walk away again.

He glanced at his younger sister and almost burst out laughing despite his best efforts. Tree had made sure to sit next to Max - the little hussy, he thought fondly – and provided an effective barrier between Max and the horde. She was alternating her attention between Max and Tim but she kept looking at Max, who was concentrating on his food, with a little, soft light in her eyes.  _Careful, Tree. Max is one damn big stray puppy._  She couldn't help herself though, and puppy rescue mode or not, Tree had already decided she liked Max and nothing short of Armageddon would shake it now. Val smiled to himself and kept up his conversation with Frank, dodging his brother's more personal questions and keeping it to open topics like Frank’s daughter Caroline. While they chatted, Val caught Bernadette eyeing him and Max speculatively while she fed Joe. He just gave her a shit-eating grin and let her think what she would.

Val managed to ditch most of his meal on the ground, glad his youngest brother and his nephew were messy eaters. As dinner started to wind down, his mother began to stack plates and bowls preparatory to clearing the table and he saw his father shift in his seat.  A glance at Max and Val quickly made a decision. He wasn’t up for any in-depth conversation and doubted Max was, either.  He gave his father a look as he got up and Hugh appeared surprised but nodded after a moment.

"I think I'm going to show Max around the neighborhood," Val said and looked at his friend. He was finished eating but he was too quiet for Val's liking. "Yo, Max. Take a walk?"

Max looked up at the sound of his name and then stood up almost simultaneously. "Yeah, sounds fine."

Isabel touched Val’s face before he could pull back and then made them wait while she found him a jacket.  “You wear that,” she said.  “You feel chilled.”  She adjusted the collar after Val pulled it on.  "You take your time.  There will be marzipan and cannolis here when you get back.”

“Don’t take too long,” Frank hollered and the rest of the family broke out in laughter that followed them back through the house and out the front door. 

Out of the view of his family some of Val's energy seemed to desert him. "Man. I forgot what this is like.  They wear me out."

"Kept feeling like I'd been trapped in a 'Leave It to Beaver' episode and had forgotten my lines," Max responded.  He took a deep breath and glanced around the street.  "I didn't think anybody like your folks existed outside of TV."

Val chuckled, dropping his head back to look up at the canopy of green trees overhead. The sidewalks were lined with ancient trees that blocked an unimpeded view of the night sky.  Late spring had always been Val’s favorite time of year and this spring promised to be as beautiful as he remembered with the blooming of the jonquils and azaleas, and the camillas loading the night air with their heavy perfume.  "They aren't always like that,” he said.  “This is…”  He paused, looking for the right description. "Kind of like holiday behavior? You don't fight on holidays or in front of guests.  Everybody does their best to get along. It was never a sitcom.  You’re seeing them at their best – which is not a bad thing.”  "Remember this when they are at the opposite end of the scale screaming at each other. Nobody's family is like those old TV shows."

"It's my frame of reference; watched a lot of it growing up." Max shrugged and they walked along in silence for a moment. "Your family always been like that? How do you stand it?"

"Same way you stand the noise in the Bayou: you get used to it,” Val answered.  “And yeah, pretty much. They fuss over you one minute and scream at you the next with no rhyme or reason to it sometimes.  Frank always said it was we got for having hot Italian blood wrapped up in a stubborn Scots package. It has its ups and downs.  Before Theresa was born it was definitely a down time and I didn't understand it then..." Val fell silent, contemplating the cracked sidewalk as they walked.

Max nodded to indicate he’d heard Val’s answer and they kept walking.  His own experiences had shown him that families weren’t always as pleasant or as nice in families as they seemed on the surface but there was something about the way Val’s family interacted that seemed different to him.  It didn’t have the same sense of cruelty or maliciousness he was used to.  Hugh hadn’t said one word about Val’s job all night.  Max understood there were tensions; he’d felt them during the introductions and dinner.  Still, there was this undercurrent that the Everetts all belonged to each other, that each of them had the others’ backs, that they loved each other despite whatever they might disagree about.  Part of him wondered what that might be like to have in your back pocket every day instead of always having to look over your shoulder.

He searched for something to say that wouldn’t keep going down a road it didn’t look like Val wanted to travel.  “Your sister was nice enough to play tour guide for me.”

"My sister?" Val gave Max a sly grin. "My sister thinks you are the best thing since sliced bread. Watch your step, there, Max."

Max grinned even as he recalled Tree slipping her hand into his. "She's your sister, man. She's off limits."

Val started laughing in earnest. "You better tell Theresa that, 'cause you, bud, are fair game. She has you pegged for dessert of the week!"  He staggered when Max gave him a half-hearted shove.

They walked a while longer and then turned around to make their way back to the house. "Everything's so quiet here," Max observed. "Guess I'm just used to the noise and all. When I look up, I keep half expecting to see the Bayou or the Flamingo and then I realize I’m nowhere near either of those places right now." He looked around again. "But I sure don't think I'd fit in here for long - or you," he finished, elbowing Val again. "We're just too cosmopolitan.”

"Oh, yeah.  I am _so_ cosmopolitan." Val rolled his eyes.  “Max, before I came to New Orleans, I had never even been on a plane. The only places I've ever been were a school trip to DC, a week in Daytona with my family when I was ten and a very wild weekend in North Carolina about six months after I started hustling. But I know what you mean..." He looked around slowly. "I loved this neighborhood when I wasn't being an angry teen...but it's...I don't fit in here anymore."

They reached the house and both of them looked at each other a moment, steeling themselves for the entry back into Everett home and the well-meaning people within.  Val hesitated, though, as they stood on the sidewalk and stared at the front door where light spilled out from the glass and voices could be heard trailing out into the night air.

"You know, even before I knew I was queer, I could never see myself living here or in a house like this with a family. But I also never saw anything to replace it." He gave a dry laugh. "Course, I don't think I had enough imagination as a kid to have pictured anything like what I got."

"I don't think any of us imagined what we've ended up with," Max answered. "I think we're just making the best with what somebody dealt us."

The front door opened and Theresa was there with a grin on her face and Agnes by her side looking shy and impish at the same time. "If you two are finished talking?" she archly inquired.

"We are, Tree," Val started walking toward the house but barely got a few steps towards the porch before Tree and Agnes with Tim and Daniel behind them tumbled out the door."Sic 'em, guys!" Theresa hollered and Val swore on a choked laugh as all four produced cans of whipped cream and started firing.

Since Val was in front of him, Max had the chance to duck and half-turn before he heard the hiss of the compressed air and felt a glob of the sweet, sticky substance on his neck before someone kindly slapped him on the back, gluing his shirt to his skin with sugar. "Hey!" he yelped, spinning back around only to get caught in the face. When he straightened up and wiped his eyes, he saw Tim staring up at him, unsure whether to run or be bold and continue on his mission, the can held out in front of him like a weapon.

"You know, kid," Max said, stepping slightly closer, "there's an old, old saying..."

"Max," Val drew out. He thought he had an idea which phrase Max was going to use.

"Turnabout is fair play," Max said, smirking at Val. "You know what that means?" Tim, still caught in his indecision, shook his head.

"It means..." Max lunged and caught the boy as, too late, he tried to turn and run back to the safety of the house and his older sister. "That it's only fair that you get made into dessert as well." He picked Tim up in one arm and grabbed the can before squirting a fair amount of whipped cream into Tim's mouth, grinning as the boy quickly swallowed and opened his mouth for more. "Your mama didn't raise no dummies, huh?" he said, obliging once again before setting the kid down. Tim reached for the can. "Uh-uh," Max said, teasingly waving the can just above Tim's reach.

Val could see Agnes dancing just out of his reach, unsure of this person who she had been told was her brother. "Turnabout, huh?" The girl was casting longing looks at Tim and Max, wanting somehow to be included in the fun. He decided he could oblige and grabbed his little sister.

Max had just set Tim down when he felt a tapping on his shoulder and turned around just in time to get blindsided by white foam once more. When his vision cleared, he saw Tree standing and smiling, just daring him to come get her with every bit of body language she could muster.

 _Off limits, Griffin_ , he reminded himself. Besides, she was 17 and he was almost 25. Nothing was gonna happen because he wasn't going to let it happen. He feinted to the left and she moved to the right so he grabbed her and managed to squirt a fair amount of whipped cream over her head and shoulders before she pulled at his T-shirt collar, spraying the rest of the can down it and then smacking his shirt against his chest.

"Tree, that's enough," came Hugh Everett's voice.

"Dad..." She stepped away from Max.

"It's okay," Max said, wiping his eyes. He could feel his hair already becoming stiff from the dried sugar. "I'll just remember to pack my own ammunition from now on." He looked around to see where Val was and grinned widely before allowing himself to start laughing. "Oh man, if you could see yourself..."

Val grinned back at Max.  Agnes had turned out to be quite a good shot and she was still giggling, having managed to escape with whipped cream nowhere but on her hands and shirt. The fact she was noticeably less wary of him made the whole sticky mess worth it.  "You look like one of momma's cannolis," Val said with a laugh.

Max grimaced as the layer of whipped cream between his skin and his shirt began to melt.  Dark patches were appearing all through the cotton and he was starting to itch.  Val's mother interrupted his attempts to scratch through whipped cream that was now dripping down his chest by stating, "You all need to clean up before you come in."

Max eyed the garden hose but Val got there first. "I don't think so," he told Max.

"You're really no fun," Max said. "Too cosmopolitan."

"You, my friend, have a tendency toward excess.  I would like to be clean, not drowned." Val shot back with a grin.

Val sprayed the kids down and Max tried to find other things to look at when it was Tree's turn, repeating his new mantra: _off limits_. Then Val was crooking a finger at him. "I don't trust you, Everett."

"Ah, c’mon, Max. Hey, think of it this way – you’ll be the last one to hold the hose.  Revenge could be sweet," he said teasingly, but his smile was encouraging.  The younger kids were already heading up to the house while Isabel emerged with towels for everyone.  Theresa retrieved three towels and returned, setting them down next to the near-empty cans of whipped topping before grabbing one to dry her hair.  Everyone else went back into the house.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." He looked down at himself. There was no way all this was coming off unless he used the hose.  The fear of being stared at, of the evidence of his sins being exposed gripped him once again.  He looked at Val.  The vampire wouldn’t say anything and would probably help him make up some kind of excuse if Max indicated he wanted one.  He plucked at the hem of his T-shirt and thought he saw Val’s eyes light in understanding.  At the same time, however, Max recalled his impression of the Everetts.  Val hadn’t used Max’s story to try and hold anything over him.  Maybe these folk would be the same.

Taking a deep breath, Max grabbed the tail of his T-shirt and pulled it off over his head. "Anytime you're ready."

Val hit Max's back first, washing off the sticky residue.  Tree came to stand near him while he directed the spray of water and he could see her dark eyes widen a little at the scar.  She glanced at her brother and Val shook his head.  "You are a mess, Max,” he said out loud as Max turned and Val sprayed the water over his chest and head.  “I can see we are going to have to teach you the finer points of dessert warfare."

Max turned around and wiped his eyes with his hands.  Opening them, he found Tree holding a towel in front of him.  He fumbled the handoff as her eyes flicked down to the scar but when they looked back up at him, he didn’t see any disgust.  Curiosity, yes, but nothing that indicated she thought he was anything other than her brother’s friend still. 

He cleared his throat. "I...um...fell a couple years ago. I don't bounce well," he weakly joked, trying to tamp down the uneasiness inside him. He unfolded the towel and draped it over his head and furiously started drying his hair to get away from the compassion in her blue eyes. 

Theresa wanted to ask. She wanted to touch it and ask him if it hurt or how it happened but she didn't. She liked her brother’s friend and while she couldn’t pretend the scar wasn’t there, she could show she didn’t think it was important. She cast about for something to break the odd tension she felt and saw a whipped cream can by her feet.  She snatched it up and aimed it at Val.  “Surprise!” she yelled and launched herself at Val.  Her brother dropped the hose as he stumbled and she pinned him, squirting whipped cream into his mouth.

His reaction was not what she expected. Val choked and bucked, forgetting his strength and knocking Tree backwards with enough force to make her cry out. He tried to get up but couldn't in the face of sudden and overwhelming nausea.

 _Fuck!_  Max ran over to where both Everetts lay crumpled on the ground. Theresa was getting up under her own steam but Val was still lying there. As he watched, Theresa turned, ready to run back into the house for her parents and barely hearing the strangled, "No!" her brother got out.

"Tree, don't!" Max echoed. Crouching down, he put himself between Val and his sister while he helped Val to a semi-upright position, letting the vampire lean against him. He knew that vampires couldn't eat but he hadn't seen evidence of the consequences firsthand until tonight.

The blood-tinged bile was what Val expected but not what he wanted his family to see. He was still sick to his stomach but the heaving had stopped. "Your turn, Max.  You get to hose me down now," he said hoarsely. "Tree, you want to find a couple of dry shirts? Don't say anything."

"Okay," she responded in a subdued manner and looked at Max for reassurance.

"Wait a sec, Tree." Max looked at Val, trying to ask with his eyes what he should say and not say. Val raised one shoulder slightly which meant that Max was apparently in charge of this show. _Great._ He handed his towel to Val so he could clean up and then looked up at Tree, who was still standing there.

"Daddy said..." Her voice trailed off.

"Theresa, your dad's right. Val isn't sick," Max said, trying to piece together what he was going to say while he talked. "He doesn't have AIDS. I swear."

Tree nodded.

"He's just got...he just needs to be very careful what he eats and he...doesn't want to worry your folks, okay?" Lying was generally one of Max’s more stellar talents. Then again, he'd never tried to conceal anyone's vampiric identity before so he was going to chalk up this half-assed attempt up to being his first time out of the gate. Maybe he'd get better with practice. "Kinda like ulcers, y'know?"

A chuckle came from Val and Max helped him up.

"Oh, I like that," Val murmured, "Glad you didn't say food poisoning. My mother would never forgive you."

"Well, I didn't hear anything coming from you," Max muttered. After making sure Val could stand on his own, Max helped him clean up and they walked back towards the house, Tree falling into step with them. Val looked at his sister just before they entered. "Not a word to Momma or Dad, okay? I'll tell 'em when I can." When she nodded her agreement, he relaxed a little.

"I think I'll go find a shirt if you don't mind," Max said, preparing to run the gauntlet of Everetts as quickly as he could.

"Come on," Tree said, grabbing his hand to lead him even though she didn't need to.  He could have followed but she liked it and Max looked uncomfortable. She tossed a glance at Val and he nodded. She had the same urge to study her brother that she did with Max. She didn't remember Val being so pale and despite Max's words she remembered what her father had said: not that Val wasn't sick but that he 'said' he wasn't sick.

Whatever it was, Val didn't want anyone to know and getting stuff out of Val could be like getting blood from a turnip.  Tree was pretty sure Max knew something except she didn't think he was lying…exactly.  He just wasn’t telling the whole truth. For Val.

She'd have to think about this.

"Getting dry clothes!" she called out when she heard her mother's query and opened a side door in the hall. A single light-bulb came on with a tug on the pull string and Theresa led the way downstairs to the basement. At the bottom of the steps, she let go of Max’s hand to hit a wall switch.

"Oh, man. Dad has been busy," Val said, looking around. "He got the paneling up." He pulled away to the left as Theresa went right. Glancing after Theresa, Max could see another open door and the light on to reveal a laundry room. He started to follow her, then stopped as she closed the door partway and smiled.

"Just a sec," she said and a moment later Max could hear the sound of a wet shirt hitting the floor. Another moment and she opened it again, wearing a clean, dry and not much less revealing tank top embroidered around the neckline. She held out two other shirts, one black and one white. "They're Pat's. He won't care. They’re going to be too big but one of Frank’s would be huge."

Max took the black one and quickly fit his arms through the sleeves.  Val took the other shirt and stripped off his own without a thought.

"Well that explains why you're so skinny," Theresa said idly, looking at her brother. "You need to get some sun, mio coure," she said softly

Val glanced over at her.  "Yeah, well.  Nightlife is my life, Tree," he said quietly, a little flatly, then reached out and caught her by the back of the head and pulled her forward to kiss her forehead before putting on the shirt and tucking it in.

"Daddy said you weren't hooking anymore," she said, following him as Val moved further into the partly finished basement room.

Max took a quick look up from buttoning his shirt.  He wanted to hear what Val would say. Early indications were this was going to be one interesting conversation.

"I'm not, exactly. I think what I do for a living is best left undiscussed, Tree," he said.

"Well, I wasn't going to bring it up at dinner!" she said and glared at him before turning to Max in an obvious attempt to ignore her brother.  Her cheeks were a little flushed, but her tone was still friendly, indicating to Max she was specifically pissed off at just her brother versus just being bitchy.  "Dad says you're a bouncer at a strip club."

Max changed his idea of interesting to refer only to conversations involving other people.  He finished buttoning the shirt and started to tuck it into his jeans but Tree was still standing in front of him. "Yeah," he said finally, rolling up the sleeves. "I am. It's a living."  _Thanks, Hugh._

"Are the dancers nice? Are they pretty?" she asked and seemed to be sincerely interested.

"Not like you," he blurted out, his brain still stuck on the fact that Hugh Everett seemed to have been rather free with information about Max. The next thing that registered was the wave of heat that came over his face.  _Shit._  He wasn't even going to look at Val right now. What the hell was wrong with him? He had absolutely no problem talking to women like Yvette or Maggie or any other of the women he knew who worked in the Quarter but stick him next to a 17-year-old with dark blue, endless eyes and suddenly he was tongue-tied? Max desperately wanted to close his eyes, click his heels three times and be back in the Quarter when he opened them.

"When did Dad put this in?" Val said and Max could have kissed him for changing the subject. The vampire was pointing to a huge built-in bookcase with glass fronts and ornate carving.  "He’s been working on this thing for ten years," Val told Max and there was pride in his voice for his father's craftsmanship.

"Damn." Max stepped up to take a closer look. "Your dad's got some talent. This kind of stuff takes time and a lot of patience." He looked at Tree. He had to try and get the conversation with her back on a normal track or he was never going to last the few days here. "When did he do this?"

"Uhm...last summer I think, when they finished the paneling. He was afraid the glass would get broken. It's from the '20's - poor glass? Some kinda glass," she said. "He found it when they were working on those shops in Little Five Points. I think Andy got it for him."

"Poured glass," Val absently corrected as he touched the wavy reflections.

Max looked at it again. He was a pretty good mechanic and had some rudimentary knowledge of carpentry thanks to the odd jobs he’d taken in the off seasons but to be able to do something like what Val’s father had done was another level of skill altogether.  He gazed it at a few moments longer and tore his attention away reluctantly when he found himself wondering if he could get Hugh to teach him how to do something like that. 

A new thought occurred to him. "Val, you take your medicine yet?"

"My what?" Val asked, turning to look at him with a startled expression on his face.

"Your  _condition_?" Max stressed. He didn't know when the last time the vampire had fed was but would be willing to bet he was going to need something after inhaling whipped cream.

"Oh. Uhm...yeah." Val said, prevaricating while he tried to parse whatever code Max might be speaking.  The reference snapped into place a moment later. "An hour?" he asked, trying to figure out how soon he might need to feed.  He decided he was all right for now.  The dose of whipped cream had left him feeling queasy more than anything and he had a quick flash of him keeping a can of whipped cream in his belt like a gun in a holster and he smiled to himself.  If he ever started to lose it, he could dose himself with it and let the nausea break the frenzy.  “Hour’s good?” he repeated, thinking Max might have another reason for asking – like being a little overwhelmed with the whole family visit thing. 

"Okay," Max said slowly. He definitely needed to get away from Tree right now.  The mantra wasn't helping no matter how many times he ran the refrain through his head.

Val's sister looked from one to the other then heard her father calling. "You'll be up in a minute?" She asked them both but her eyes were on Max, expectant.

"In a few, Tree," Val said and tossed his head toward the stairs.

"I'll save you both a cannoli before Frank eats them all," she offered before running upstairs. Val watched her go and then glanced at Max, a wide grin starting to spread over his face.

Max glared at him. "Don't say it, Everett. Don't even say it."

"What's the matter, Max?" Val asked innocently. "Don't you like my sister?"

"She's what?  17?" He looked at Val. "She even been kissed yet? I don't know how they do things here in Atlanta."

"Oh, sarcasm," Val grinned. "She does have you rattled. As for being kissed?  Probably.  Not much more, though.  Having a sister like 'Dette should put her on the cautious side but she's not an idiot. And…" He paused but then plowed on through. "She's been on the pill since she was fourteen. Not that it ever did 'Dette any good."

Max nodded.  “But, um, aren’t you guys Catholic?”  He remembered Val saying something about that at some point and birth control was supposed to be a non-starter as far as he could recall.

"Yeah.  But my mother is obviously fairly fertile and so is 'Dette.  There is no reason to think Tree won't be too so better not to take chances.  Finding out they had a gay son made my parents take a good hard look at some statistics about teens and promiscuity and VD and a shitload of other things," he said with a harder edge to his voice.

Val swept both hands through his hair. "I can remember my father sitting me down with Pat and Frank and Bernadette after he found out.  He announced it to the whole family and then began putting pamphlets on the coffee table.  I was never so embarrassed in my life. Pat didn't talk to me for a month after.  Tree got the same lecture a couple of years ago when she started asking but without the audience. "

"Pat does look like he'd enjoy a funeral more than a wedding, anyway," Max commented. "What'd you think about it all? I mean, they kinda made you the reason for it all."

"I dunno. I mean it’s a good thing for Tree to know that it not all fun and games and that it's not all pretty." He sighed and turned back toward the stairs. "Still, nothing like knowing you’re the reason your sister loses her innocence before she puts on her first bra.”  When he turned back to fully face Max, the smile was firmly fixed on Val’s face again.  “Come on. Momma will be really hurt if you don’t at least taste her cannolis and I will consider you seriously deprived in the taste bud department if you don’t like them. 

"All right." Max pushed past Val and made a show of dragging himself up the stairs. "I suppose I can see my way through one more family ritual for the evening." He felt Val punch him in the back and grinned. With the vampire's descriptors, he could see where this family could mood shift from one moment to the next. Still, there was a sense of stability here that he liked...and quiet. Not necessarily in terms of volume; God knew it was loud enough around here with brothers, sisters, nieces, and nephews.  It was more a quiet inside of him that he hadn't noticed before. He stopped at the head of the stairs. "Val?" he asked.  Max licked his lips and then plunged on ahead.  "Would you think I was totally nuts if I told you I could imagine myself here?"

Val had to keep his own smile under control as he answered. "Well, yeah.  Then again, I tend to think you’re a little nuts on an everyday basis.  But I think you would fit in," he agreed and let his smile broaden, become more natural than the fixed one he’d started with. "I was kinda..." he started and then changed tracks.  It wasn’t time yet.  "I think, Max, that you'd fit in real well. And I think you'd like it."

"Just a passing thought. Nothin' will probably come of it, though." He opened the door to the main area of the house. "It's that legit thing." Max didn't want to start that argument up again.  He honestly didn't see a way out of where he was and didn't want to drag anyone else - least of all someone like Tree - into that kind of life. No, he was cut off and it was best just to live with it.

Val caught his arm and sharply turned him, keeping his voice low. "Max, if this is the life you want, you can make it happen," he said earnestly and his gaze locked onto Max's like a vise. "It's not for everybody but my parents are pretty happy even with the day to day bullshit they have to deal with.  And as for legit?" he hesitated. "You need to have a long talk with my dad about some things."  He was about to say more but Isabel had caught sight of them and was beckoning them towards the dining room table. 

"June Cleaver, man, I'm telling you," Max whispered to Val before sliding into a seat, noticing only afterwards that it was right by Tree again.

Tree grinned at him and then turned and then turned to sweetly smile at Bernadette who also had an open chair beside her. The kids were in the living room with their plates watching TV and squabbling amicably. Val slipped into the seat between Bernadette and Frank. The rest of the family already had near empty plates in front of them but Tree was quick to slide a plate in front of Max. The pastry was thick, filled with heavy cream and sprinkled over with a dusting of powdered sugar and a fruit glaze.

"Max, you want coffee or would you like a beer? Valentine?" Isabel asked. Pat was beside her in the doorway of the galley kitchen sipping at a long neck but Frank and Hugh had coffee.

"Coffee, please," Max said. "I can get it." From Isabel's look, that was seemingly forbidden in the Everett kitchen and he quickly sat back down again.

"Beer, Momma," Val called out and pushed his plate at Frank. "I'm stuffed," he said with a grin.

"She's gonna kill you," Frank said but had his fork in hand and was breaking the hard pastry shell in a second. "But I love you like a brother," he added in pure bliss as he took a healthy bite. "'Course it's not nearly as much fun as stealing 'em from you."

"You should be as big as this house," Val retorted, thanking his mother for the beer. She ruffled his hair for a moment as she set Max's coffee in front of him.

"So?" Isabel asked shamelessly. "What do you think?"

Max had been looking at the dessert a little dubiously but he picked up his fork and imitated Frank, managing to get the bite in his mouth, then chewing and swallowing. "It's wonderful," he said sincerely. "This is the best I've eaten in a long time. I don't suppose you deliver?"

"That's a smart friend you have there, mio piccolo," Isabel said to Val with a wink at Max and moved toward her husband. Hugh sat back and Isabel slipped into his lap. "Val, why don't you and Max stay here? We can put the cots in the basement-"

"Momma, no," Val said firmly. "I have business to take care of tomorrow and I have to get up early. I'll be back tomorrow night."

"No chance to visit your old friends downtown, Val?" Pat called out from the doorway.

"Patrick-" Hugh's tone was sharp and it was Frank who laid his hand on Val's arm before his younger brother could turn.

"Sorry. Prodigal son and all that." Pat said sullenly and then Val was up.

"Well, I might, Patrick.  Wanna come?" Val asked.

Tree's hand clutched at Max's under the table and her eyes were wide.

Max squeezed her hand and carefully watched the undercurrents.  He had no doubt Val could take care of himself and kept his eye on Patrick, letting his instincts from the Bayou take over. He pushed his chair back slightly and angled his body towards the doorway in case Pat decided to come at Val. 

Hugh's voice interrupted the growing friction.  It carried over everything and he spoke clearly, precisely.  "Valentine.  Patrick. It stops right now," Hugh said.  He never moved and his voice remained low.  "Patrick, take a walk. You have a job in the morning."

Pat and Val glared at each other for a few seconds more before Pat looked away with a red flush staining his fair face. "Yeah. I gotta work in the morning." He set the half-empty beer bottle on the counter. "I'm glad you're home," he mumbled and moved to the hall, heading upstairs.

"Long day, Val," Frank said quietly, laying his hand on Val's shoulder.

"Yeah, for all of us," Val said and Max could see him visibly relax.  "Excuse me," he said softly. "Back in a minute." He left the table and went into the guest bathroom, closing the door behind him.  Max slowly relaxed himself and turned back towards the table.  Tree still held his hand. 

"I'm sorry, Max," Hugh said quietly, obviously embarrassed. "They...Pat and Val are like two cats fighting for the same mouse."

"Until another cat comes along," Bernadette said. "And then the fur does fly." She gave Max a knowing grin. "Nobody can pick on Val but Pat," she explained and got up to start clearing the table.

"Or you," Frank said as he sat back down at the table.

"That's what big sisters are for," she said airily.

"So what are you going to do while Val is working?" Isabel asked Max.

"I...I hadn't particularly thought about it yet," he answered. "I figured I'd probably just hang around the hotel or something."

"If you got no plans," Hugh began, "you ever done any construction?"

"Yeah, I've got some experience in that area from odd jobs," Max replied. "You need some help?"

"Not help precisely, but we – Frank and I – have a renovation job in the morning over in Grant Park. Nothing big, just refitting some ceiling panels.  Shouldn't take us more than a few hours or so but it'd give you a look at the city, show you what we do. It would be a heck of lot easier to hold those panels up with two men and the third one free to do the nailing. Then maybe we can give you a tour since you’re here.  That would leave you the afternoon free to sightsee or you’re welcome here."

Max quickly quashed the thought he could hang out with Tree some more.  "Sure." He hadn't done work like that in a while and it might be good to sharpen his skills some.

They agreed on a time that Hugh would pick up Max and called a cab when Val reappeared from the bathroom.   Max thanked Val’s mom for dinner and they said goodnight.  Tree saw them out to the porch and waved at them as the cab drove off. 

They arrived at their motel room and collapsed on their beds for a moment before Val got up. "I need to go out," he said, pulling his bag onto the bed.

"No problem," Max answered. "You have your diet. I have mine - although your mother cooks much more and I'm gonna have to go on one!"

"Pasta is good for you - when she gets to that food group," Val teased and stripped off his own clothes before pulling out clean jeans and a shirt.  He kept talking while he changed. "You going to be okay?"

"I'll be fine," Max said, sitting up and pulling off his sneakers and socks. "I told your dad I'd help him out at a job site tomorrow. Figured I could work for a few hours during your comatose time, y'know?" He grinned at the vampire's mock-affronted expression. "You go feed," he told Val, pulling off his shirt and unbuttoning his jeans. "I'm going to bed."

Val nodded. "I probably won't be here when you get up," he cautioned. "But the room is paid for and if you need anything put it on the bill - including cab fare if you need it. Madeleine is paying and she has the money."

He motioned Max to the window and pulled the curtains back just enough to point out a church a block away. "Not that you need to know, but that's where I'll be during the day," he said. "Sub-basement. I have a key for the room so if you aren't here when I get in, I'll just meet you at my folks," he said, then hesitated again before speaking. "If they ask and you want to?  Stay with them, Max. They'd like it," he said quietly.

Max sighed.  “I’ll think about it but right now I don't think your sister and I should be in the same town, let alone the same house." That was part of it and the part he could say even if it opened him up to Val’s teasing again. The other part was that staying in the Everetts' home would almost make him feel like he belonged, that he was part of their family. It would just make pulling out that much harder.

"It's up to you, Max but I think you should test out being legit all you can,” Val said seriously.  When Max seemed disinclined to answer, Val crossed back to one of the two beds and sat down.  Picking up the phone, he dialed and leaned back against the headboard. 

"Derek," He spoke to the person on the other end of the phone. "Let me talk to Tevis, please," he said and waited.  A moment later a soft smile broke over his face and Max might as well not have existed. "Hey, thought I'd check in." Val listened. "No. I'm on my way out," he answered and Max slipped into the bathroom to give Val some privacy.

He tried to gauge how long a phone call between Val and his lover could be and took his time brushing his teeth. When he’d finished, Max leaned against the closed bathroom door for a few minutes before opening it to find Val was off the phone but still holding the receiver while he leaned back against the headboard with his eyes closed. 

He opened them when he heard Max and set the phone down. "If you get bored or can't sleep, there's a couple of good nightclubs close by.  Jazz and blues at Fat Tuesday's across the street and rock and roll at Celine's about a block west. Do you need any cash?"

Max shook his head. His associations with Madeleine were not something he really wanted to dredge up nor did he want to be beholden to the lady for anything. It was bad juju. Madeleine used anything she could on a person. "I think I'm fine on cash flow," he said neutrally.

Val was reluctant to leave despite the fact that he really needed to feed. He glanced at Max and slowly pulled on his jacket. "When you meet with my dad tomorrow, Max, ask him what you want. He's willing to talk to you.  I asked him.  And before you get all tense on me I haven't told him anything much except that you and he have a lot in common."

"What? Like your father is really the head of organized crime here in Atlanta and he struck a deal for me to switch Families? I gotta say your dad doesn't seem like the type who brokers deals for foot soldiers." Sitting on the bed, Max pulled down the sheets and slid underneath. "I'll think about it, Val. I won't promise anything but I'll see what happens tomorrow." He pulled the covers up and bunched the pillow underneath his head. "For now, turn out the light, huh? I'll see you later.  And be careful."

"Sure you don't want to come with me, Max? I can show you the dark side of Atlanta night life," Val teased, even as he switched off the light.

"Thanks, no," came the answer from out of the dark. "I left my fangs in my other pants."

"You are no fun," Val said with a laugh. "Sleep well, Max," he added more softly and let himself out.

Max heard the door being locked and then Val’s steps towards the elevator.  "Be careful," Max said again into the dark room. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an independent work based on the concept of the Kindred from the White Wolf World of Darkness Role-Playing Game and Novels. The concept of Immortality and the Game as presented here are the property of Gregory Widen and Panzer/Davis Productions, as are the characters of Duncan MacLeod and Methos (among others.) The Lattice characters and concepts appear here by permission of V. Watts and M. Snowden. All other characters and concepts are the property and creation of thewildmole and V. Watts.
> 
> Maygra and I originally began this saga way back in the dark reaches of the 1990's. We might have called this When Worlds Collide because it is a collision of sorts. Take a World of Darkness RPG, a healthy dose of the original universe set out in Lattice (by Snowden and Watts) and toss in two young men trying to make sense of the world around them, the balances between Chaos and Order, and the need to hold onto their own souls and you have Twin Sons and Different Brothers. Max and Val met by accident -- not unlike their creators. Maygra and I have enjoyed a long friendship apart from this collaboration but it would have never originally happened without this story. Having some time on my hands, I (thewildmole) decided to edit the original work and repost it (something Maygra is fine with). ...
> 
> We warn you now that the language is frequently harsh and the situations harsher. (Rated NC17 for violence, language and sexual situations.) The NPC Characters of Tevis, Madeleine, Crispin and assorted other vampires and inhabitants of New Orleans, belong to original World of Darkness RPG Game Mistress and Goddess Meg Wittenmyer (I think we have her permission.)


	7. How the Other Half Lives

The front desk called him a little after six a.m. and Max mumbled a thank you before rolling over. Val's bed was empty, hadn't been slept in, his bag still on the mattress.

He desperately wanted to go back to sleep since his body clock was still on Bayou time. But he'd made a promise so he only gave himself an extra fifteen minutes before pulling himself out of bed. He stumbled his way to the bathroom and turned on the light, cursing as the brightness stabbed his eyes. As he stood in the shower praying for artificial circulation to kick in, he hoped Val had made it “home” alright but knew there wasn't enough time to go check.

Jumping out of the shower, he dried off and quickly pulled on a clean T-shirt, jeans and his workboots. Max was downstairs by seven and found Hugh and Frank waiting for him outside the main entrance in a battered but clean Ford pickup, the back loaded with tools and supplies. Hugh held out a thermos to him and a small bag. "Isabel sent coffee and this is marzipan. Theresa told her you didn't get any last night.  The kids," he shot a glance at Frank who grinned back, unrepentant, "ate it all. So she made some more this morning. Val already gone?"

"Yep," Max said. "I didn't even hear him leave." Good.  This vampire lying thing seemed to be getting easier.

Frank got out and let Max slide into the middle of the bench seat and then they were pulling out. The drive was a short one and Max was a little surprised at how quickly the high rises and the tall old buildings of the downtown district gave way to the residential neighborhoods that were full of huge, old shade bearing trees.

Hugh pulled into an even older section and pointed to a huge park. "That's Grant Park and the Zoo. City's spent a lot of money bringing it up to date. Put in those natural habitat things for the animals. Kids love it here.  Tim wants to be a zookeeper," he added with a grin.

He pulled into a driveway and drove back behind the row of trees lining it to pull up next to a three story, columned house that showed extensive signs of reconstruction. Max slid out after Frank and began helping them as they grabbed supplies and began hauling them over to the work site. 

Once inside the house, Hugh pointed the way to where they would be working.  The panels he had mentioned last night were huge four by four squares of carved and painted wood. About half the ceiling was done and scaffolding was set up already to reach the rest of the ceiling in the grand room that rose to the second floor at the front of the house.

"Hope you aren't scared of heights," Frank commented, reaching for the scaffolding and climbing. Reaching the top, he tossed over ropes and began hauling the supplies up. Those secure, Hugh climbed up next, moving with surprising agility for a 60-year-old.

"Not at all," Max mumbled to himself. He breathed slowly in and out and made his hands grasp the rope.  His pace was slower and he fumbled handholds every now and then but made it up to where Frank and Hugh were waiting and pulled himself over onto the scaffolding with a relieved sigh. He used the excuse of looking at the work around him in order to orient himself to the new height.

They started working, explaining to Max the whole process as they did. The panels were hand-cast plaster set on hardwood, painted and sealed with anchor bolts counter-sunk into the backs with punch-throughs at the front that were cleverly hidden in the design. It took a bit of fixing to get them in place and despite Max not really knowing what he was doing, it was obviously easier with three men as opposed to two. His primary job was to hold the panel up with either Hugh or Frank on the other side holding up the opposite end while the third man set the anchors. He had to adjust his grip a bit at times to make allowances for his right hand but, overall, Max had to admit he was feeling pretty comfortable both with the men and the work – as long as he didn’t look down.

"So," Frank said, breaking the silence as they hoisted one of the squares, "Dad says you work at a strip club."

Max almost dropped his side. "Uh...yeah. I'm a hawker."  He busied himself trying to get a more secure grip on the heavy piece.

"What's that?"

"I'm the guy who stands outside and gets you to come in the place. I also work as the bouncer." He chanced a look at Frank as they stood upright from their squatting position and was surprised not to see censure in his eyes.  If anything, Max would characterize Frank as looking thoughtful.  "I'm also a busker."

Hugh turned around at that unfamiliar word. "A what?"'

"Street performer," Max explained. "I juggle for spare change." _Good one, Max.  Can you sound any more pitiful?_

"Make enough to support yourself?" Hugh asked blandly, his eyes on his work.

Even if they meant it as simple curiosity about their son’s and brother’s friend, Max found himself getting defensive.  “Don’t need much,” he said shortly.    He thought he saw both men exchange a quick glance.  “Look,” Max said sharply.  “It’s what I do.  I needed a job and the Bayou fits the bill.  It may not pay a hell of a lot but…”  He stopped, suddenly feeling very tired, more tired than he should be even considering the amount of physical labor he’d been engaging in all morning.  “Look,” he tried again and sighed heavily.  “Sorry.  I just…there ain’t a lot I can do about it.  The job…what I do…it’s been enough for a long time.  It’s just sometimes lately…it isn’t anymore.  But I don’t think there’s anything I can do about it.”

Done with his uncharacteristic outburst, Max turned to pick up the next panel.  Frank helped him after a moment and work proceeded normally until Hugh called it quits around noon for lunch.Frank said he wanted to finish up some touch-up work first so Max and Hugh descended to the ground. Max could feel his breathing slow as he touched solid ground again and he followed Hugh out to the truck to get the food.

While pulling the cooler out of the back of the truck, Hugh said, “Frank didn’t mean anything by what he was asking.”

Max shoved his hands in his pockets and looked around the yard as he spoke.  “Okay.  I”ll work with that.” 

"Val told me very little about you, Max," Hugh said as he picked up the cooler in his big hands and started walking back towards the house. "And while I don't have Val's skill with people, I do sometimes pick up stuff from what folks don't say. Val never had a lot of friends but he keeps the friends he makes.”  He stopped walking and waited until Max was looking at him.  "I was impressed with you when I met you. I haven't seen anything yet to change my mind – no matter where you work.”

Max pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes.  This was all so very different than the time he thought he’d be having in Atlanta that he didn’t really even know where to start.  He was so used to being thought of as a commodity, categorized by what services he could perform for a boss, for Vault, for the Bayou, that the idea someone could be genuinely interested in him was almost completely foreign to Max.  “So…” he started and suddenly decided to go all in. “Let’s say I go with that for now.  Your son said you and I might have some similar experiences to talk about.”

"It's entirely possible, Max," Hugh said and led him through the house and out the back. An overgrown garden offered shade and a bit of a breeze. A worn redwood picnic table was set under some wisteria and tiny white climbing roses. Hugh sat on one bench, indicating Max should sit across from him.

Hugh opened the cooler and took out two sodas.  He passed one to Max and opened his, taking a sip and then rolling the cold can between his callused hands.   "I know from when we talked in New Orleans you don't have no family now.  You have any growing up?”

Max shook his head.  “Not really.  My dad went to prison and died there when I was five.  My mom split some time after that.  Couldn’t really even tell you if she’s alive or dead.” There was a funny little tightness in his chest as he spoke.  “Foster homes and group homes, mostly.  Other places.”

 “I did,” Hugh answered, “but it isn't the kind of family you talk much about. My mama died when I was little and my father wasn’t up to raising a child on his own so he sent me to the orphanage when I was about two. He came back and got me when I was six.

Dad got married again when I was eleven to Sylvia.  She’s about the only mother I really remember. My father was a drunk.  Just kind of a sad drunk. Sylvia did her best, though, and I can't say as I ever wanted for the important stuff like food and clothes."

"When I was fifteen, Sylvia died from cancer. Dad gave up then and with no one to look out for me, I got a little wild.”  Hugh paused and then continued. "I did some stupid things. Got into some trouble and the upshot of it was that I spent two years in the juvenile detention center in Decatur. They let me out when I was 18 and I immediately joined the army. I was in the service for nearly ten years. Saw the end of Korea and the beginning of Vietnam as a medic. That was...it was a horrible thing to be part of. That scar of yours, Max...I don't know how you got it and you don't have to tell mebut I know you were damn lucky to have survived it."

"I don't think I would have agreed with you at the time," Max said. He opened his own soda to give him some time to try and organize his thoughts.  He liked the way Hugh was talking to him.  Vault and Sammy and his other bosses had never been like this.  Max had been told what to think, what to say, and what to do.  Hugh was treating Max like an equal but also like someone giving advice, experience, and letting Max make of it what he would.  “I guess I’ve been okay since then.  Didn’t die so had to keep going some kind of way.”

Hugh reached into the cooler and began setting out sandwiches and other food.  "Once I was back home, I got into the construction business.  Had a wife and babies were comin’.  Owned my own business for a while but…well, like a lot of fellas coming back from Vietnam, I didn’t adjust too well.  Drank too much; had a few other problems as well.”  Hugh stopped and Max looked up from his contemplation of his soda can to see Hugh steadily regarding him. 

Max nodded. "Had a couple problems myself."

"Because of that...Isabel and I lost a little girl. Sophia. A few years later we almost lost Val.”  Hugh stopped and ran his fingers several times over the waxed paper covering the sandwich in his hands before he spoke.  “Val doesn’t know this but he had a twin who didn’t make it.  They were both premature and his brother died in the womb.  Was a hard time for everyone.  But then Agnes and Timothy came like God was giving us back the ones we'd lost when we never expected it.”  He set the sandwich down with its mate.  “So sometimes good does come after bad.  You just have to wait for it.”

Hugh sat down. "The truth is people do a lot of things that aren't considered right by a lot of people. And it may be that actions speak to the man rather than what he thinks. But sometimes you have to look past the actions and see why." He looked at Max. "And once you've seen that,sometimes understanding and forgiveness or atonement aren't really as far away as you thought."

Max took the sandwich Hugh handed him and worried at the piece of tape holding the wax paper closed.  “I wouldn’t even know where to start,” he finally said.  “Not really even sure I could despite what you’re sayin’.  All I know is I you all have been pretty nice and I don’t want to hurt anybody here.  If I come clean with everything…”  He stopped, unable to voice the thought but hearing the words in his head.  _If I come clean with everything, I’m finished here…and I’m starting to think I don’t want to be._

“We didn’t give up on Pat during his two years in Milledgeville,” Hugh said.  “Even though I’ve said some things to Val a father shouldn’t ever say to a child, he still saw me in New Orleans.  Redemption is just a big word that those televangelists use to get people to send them money. Last time I looked, God didn't have a checking account. For Catholics...for Christians, the debt’s been paid no matter what you've done, Max. Or why.”

“Now, I don’t know exactly what you’ve done but I can guess closer than you might think.  You might end up spending some time in prison.  Maybe you already have.  But there’s lots of ways to make up for those things we did that we’re genuinely truly sorry for.  It doesn’t just have to be you giving up and taking whatever shit gets thrown your way as penance.”

He took the now mangled sandwich out of Max’s hands and set it on the table. "Everybody has a story to tell or a debt to pay. Knowing there are other folks who might understand what you think or feel or need doesn't always help and it doesn't make it hurt any less. Only one who can make it go away is you.  How you do that is something you gotta decide for yourself."   Hugh got up from the table.  “Let me see what’s taking Frank so long.”

Max tilted his head back and looked up at the sky after Hugh left, hoping maybe some magic response would be written across the sky like across the wall in one of those Bible stories he'd heard when he was little.  Unfortunately, nothing appeared so he sat and sipped his soda until Hugh reappeared with Frank.  Watching him eat, Hugh made several comments on how Frank might be facing some stiff competition. Max grinned but didn't pause in his chewing.

After lunch, Frank and Hugh went back up on the scaffolding, assigning Max the task of bringing in the supplies from the truck and working with them on the ground before sending them up to the men on the scaffolding. The afternoon seemed incredibly warm and his T-shirt was sticking to his back so, after a moment's thought, he took it off and laid it over the side of the truck.

They finished out the afternoon and then piled everything back in the truck for the ride back to the motel. Max didn't realize he'd dozed off until Frank elbowed him and he sat bolt upright, skin stinging. "I think you got some sun, boy." Hugh laughed but didn't miss an opportunity to clap him on the back as he slid out of the cab.

"Buncha sadists," Max muttered before telling them he'd get Val and they'd be over to the Everett house in a little while. When he got back to his room, the sun was still visible so he decided to grab a nap before Val showed up.The scrape of the T-shirt over his reddened, sensitive skin made him grit his teeth but he finished undressing and piled into bed, leaving a note for Val.

The next thing he knew Val was standing over him and poking a finger in his chest. "Gee, Max.  I like my meat medium well. How about you?"

"You don't like meat anymore," Max retorted, sitting up and yawning. "How's the sub-basement these days?"

"Very cozy now that there are fewer rats but I was lonely. Think maybe you could keep me company tomorrow?" Val asked Max with wide-eyed sincerity that didn’t quite hide the laughter in his expression.

"Sorry.  Think I'll keep living above ground if you don't mind." He batted the vampire's hand out of the way. "Lemme go shower. Your dad mentioned there might be something going on tonight."

Val nodded and sat down on the other bed. "Yeah, there is.  I called them to find out and they said one of those traveling carnivals is at an abandoned mall not far from the house. Agnes saw them setting up on her way home from school yesterday and said it would be fun to go.  So, thedeal is that we're going and taking the kids, ‘Dette and Frank had other plans already so it’ll be us, Tree, the little ones…maybe Pat.” He smiled "Seems they broke into the savings account finally,” he added.  “Not exactly a second honeymoon but it’s a start.”  He started to move his legs so Max could get up but then stopped.  “Listen up, Max. Dad's treating.  He wants to – and that includes you.  I mean it.  Bite the bullet and let the man buy your tickets and your hot dogs and whatever else.”  He swung his legs up on the bed.  “Go shower. Agnes made us promise not to be late."

"All right, already," Max agreed although he felt a little pleased at being included.  He started to head into the bathroom but realized Val was following him with his eyes.  “What?” 

"You going to be all right with this?  The carnival, I mean,” Val asked.  “The rides.  I can take the kids on any of the ones you don’t want to go on,” he shyly offered. 

"I’ll be fine,” Max reassured him. It wasn’t necessarily the rides that were the problem but who might be on the crew.  He wasn’t going to say that to Val, though.  His friend looked worried enough and Max wanted Val to be able to enjoy his time with his family without Max’s issues coming along for the ride. 

They got to the house and it was only moments later that the whole family tumbled out to meet them. Tim and Agnes latched immediately onto Val's handswithIsabel, Pat and Hugh bringing up the rear, leaving Theresa to walk beside Max.

She was dressed in jeans again but she had on a rich green blouse with capped sleeves and lace around the shallow scooped neck.   Her hair was pulled back and braided, making her look a little older, and tiny silver hoops glittered in her ears.   As she walked beside him, Max could also smell some kind of light perfume.  He edged a little closer. 

"Dad says he worked your ass off today," she told him.

"He did," Max agreed, "and I'm gonna feel it by the end of tonight." He could smell Theresa's perfume every time he inhaled. She was really pretty, he admitted to himself. _Too bad she's Val's sister._ Then, Val's comment about what Tree seemed to think of Max popped into his head and Max wondered if he was going to have to be even more careful than he’d previously thought.  _Moving in on the daughter would be bad_ , he lectured himself.  Especially since he and Val would be pulling out soon. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to at least be nice."You look really pretty," he said quietly.

She said nothing in return but just smiled a rather feminine smile that made him nervous and excited all the same and Max kept sneaking looks at her while they walked. He wondered if Val could hear his heart and hoped the vampire would go easy on the “you like my sister, Griffin?” jokes tonight.

"Oh." Theresa's soft exclamation stopped them for a moment as the carnival appeared. The kids were already running, Val watching them to make sure they didn't get away from them or lost in what was a fair-sized crowd for a small carnival. "I love these," she said softly. "I know they look gaudy and tacky in the daylight but at night they are just...beautiful," Theresa said.  Her eyes reflected the bright twinkling lights at the entrance and the sounds of the laughter and screams from those riding the rides washed over them. 

Max just nodded.  Tree didn't need to know about what lay behind a carnival.  None of the Everett kids did.  He'd tell Hugh to make sure of that.

They caught up with the family at the gate, Hugh standing there with a huge grin on his face as he passed over the money and teased the younger children by only giving them ride tickets equivalent for their age although he had a fistful of them. Then he handed out the tickets for the games.  Tree was passed her own and Max's and then he split more between Val and Patrick for the kids.It was funny and sweet to watch the Everetts who were almost like a big, noise carnival of their own, Max thought, as they moved through the midway. 

The unanimous first family choice was the Tilt-A-Whirl and they went in two groups with Agnes and Val and Tree and Max in one and the rest of the family in the other. Val and Patrick tried constantly to see if they could slap each other’s hands on the madly spinning cars, and Tree and Agnes were screaming with laughter as her brother and his friend got their car to spin constantly.

When they exited the ride, Max felt mildly drunk from the spinning motion and exaggerated it briefly for the benefit of Tim and Agnes. When the younger Everetts loudly protested that they were fine, Max made them walk ten paces while he, Val and the rest grinned to see them veer off first to the left and the right.

"No effects, huh?" Patrick teased. "Where to next, then?"

"Ferris wheel," Theresa said firmly, taking Tim and Daniel's hands, and Val glanced at Max.

"Do or die, bro," Max said quickly. They walked across the grass and dirt to the Ferris wheel and were about to get in line when a familiar face caught Max's eye. " 'Scuse me a second, huh?"

Val watched as Max dodged around a few people and went up behind the man watching the contraption spin slowly round and round, tapping him on the shoulder. He saw the man stiffen and glance behind him, shock and emotions Val couldn't define crossing his round face. Then he and Max were shaking hands. Intrigued, Val told Patrick to save their places in line and meandered around so he could hear the conversation.

"Hey, Jimmy," Max said evenly. "Been a long time."

"It has, Max," Jimmy replied. His round face was partially hidden under a baseball cap from which escaped salt-and-pepper hair in a limppony tail. He had a mustache and goatee and didn't seem to mind the evening's coolness, his lanky body covered by jeans and a tank top. Several blue tattoos decorated his arms. "You're lookin'good," he said in a strong Boston accent, leaving unsaid anything about how Max looked the last time the two had seen each other. 

"Thanks." Max said. "Just here visiting with a friend and they wanted to come by tonight.  Didn’t know you’d be here."

The carny nodded. "Heard you left the circuit. Where you at now?"

“New Orleans.  Little of this.  Little of that.  You give up workin’ the two-way joints?”

Jimmy shook his head.  “Short-handed.  Had some guys quit a few towns back.  So, no roadwork at all?”

It was Max’s turn to shake his head although he offered a tiny grin.  “Still read the midway on my walk here, though.”

Val could hear Jimmy chuckle.  “You always was good at that.” As Val watched, another man joined them. Max turned and saw him and his whole body language changed, now wary and alert.  Val could hear Max’s heart pick up a few beats.

"Griffin," he greeted Max. His unruly red hair was partly covered by a bandanna and the beginnings of a beer belly pressed against his T-shirt. "Didn't think I'd see you around this gig again."

"Life is just full of little surprises, Charlie." Val could hear a mix of several emotions in that reply and wondered if Charlie was slick enough to pick up on them.

“Not least is the fact you’re still fuckin’ alive,” Charlie replied and stroked a wiry red beard that reached down to his chest.  “Although I heard you’re a larry now.”

Max’s hands curled in his pockets of their own volition but he tried to play it off.  He shrugged, his mouth set in a thin, straight line.  “I said I wouldn’t break.  The fact you’re still walkin’ around a free man should tell you that.”

Val was trying so hard keep up with the players, the multiple volatile emotions running just under the surface and the odd lingo all three men were using that he didn’t see Tree disengage herself from the rest of the clan and head over to stand next to Max.  He opened his mouth to yell at her to stay back and then shut it before giving himself away.

Max felt Tree’s hand slip into his.  Adrenaline shot through him as he saw Charlie’s attention turn to her and he swallowed hard once and then twice in an effort to keep down the sour bile threatening to rise.

"Well, things are definitely lookin' up," Charlie said and gave Tree a huge grin. "How'd you manage to score a piece of that?"

Max pulled his hand from Tree’s and pushed her gently behind him before turning back to Charlie.  "None of your damn business, Webber,” he hissed.  “She's off-limits." He looked back at Tree. "Go back in line."

"You come, too," she asked, sensing some of the undercurrents even if she couldn’t tell what they were about.

"In a minute," he told her and waited until she nodded and began to walk back.

"Bring her by tonight," Charlie said, ignoring Jimmy's shake of the head. "You remember our parties, don't you?"

_No way._ Max stepped up to Charlie until they were almost touching noses. Charlie’s beer-sour breath gusted in his face.  Max thought he could hear screams but held firm.  He spoke in a low voice meant not to carry beyond the three of them.  "Touch her and I will finally pay you back, you piece of shit. Understand?”

“B.C., you guys,” Jimmy murmured.  “Don’t need nothin’ started here.”

Val watched, ready to intervene if it looked like he needed to, but Charlie stared at Max for a minute longer and then stepped back with another grin, more sinister this time.  “Sure, _larry_.  See you around.”

Max turned to leave as well and Val could see the blood flushing his face and hear his heart still beating fast.  Before Max could step away, Jimmy grabbed his arm and Max turned sharply.  “What?” he nearly barked.

“Just…ah, c’mon, kid,” Jimmy said.  “I just wanted…I hoped you and I could be square.”

Max bit his lip.  “Sure,” he said finally.  “I know what you did.  You and me are square.”  When Jimmy nodded and let go of Max’s arm, Max stepped away to go find where the Everetts were waiting in line.

Val sidled up beside him.  "Friends?" Val asked quietly.  He could see Max was still flushed and the line of his shoulders was tense.

“Former coworkers,” Max said shortly. 

_Well, that explains a lot._ But Val still had questions.  “What’s a larry?” he asked.

Max stopped short and gave him a hard look.  “Nothing.”

Max was closing up again and Val returned to the strategy that sometimes worked with his friend:  relentless pestering.  “Seriously?  ‘Cause it seemed like something.  There were all these words and, granted, I have no idea what a two-way joint is – although it’s probably not as dirty as it sounds – but it was almost like needing a dictionary to listen to you.  And then – “

“So get one.”  Max snapped and started to walk again only to have Val step in front of him.

“Max,” he said softly.  “What’s a larry?”  Val couldn’t even really say why he’d picked that word except it was the one Max had reacted to most strongly.  It obviously meant something and Val was willing to bet it wasn’t good.

Max exhaled heavily through his nose.  “Loser,” he said finally.  His gaze darted around Val’s general area but never lighted on the vampire.  “That’s one meaning.  Broken.  Damaged.  Stuff like that.”

“Really?” Val drawled.  He looked back at the Ferris wheel where Charlie had rejoined Jimmy.  His eyes narrowed.  “Gee, I wonder how Charlie feels about heights.”

"A lot better about 'em than I do," was all Max said. "Not your concern, Everett."

"I think I might like to find out." The light, pleasant tone was at odds with the flat look of malevolence Val shot the man and he started to step around Max to head back towards them. 

Max put his hand on Val's arm, stopping him. "Don't," was all he said.

Val pulled away.  “Your turn is almost here.  Go look after my sister, okay?” he asked.  “Don’t worry.  I won’t kill him.  I’m just going to…scare him a little,” Val finished in a murmur, his eyes cold and hard.

"No," Max contradicted. "You look after your sister while I keep an eye on things on the ground here." His tone was level and calm but his eyes were hard, almost dead in a way Val hadn't seen before. "You can beat the shit outta me, Val, but you're gonna have to show yourself to do it. This is  _my_  history and _my_ right to take care of it if anything happens. I appreciate what you want to do but it ain't your playin' ground. Got it?"

"You've got nothing to prove here, Max," Val hissed at him. "Don't let them drag you back down now that you’ve broken the surface," he said.  He grabbed Max and turned him to where both of them could see Tree waiting and anxiously watching them.  "Look at her, Max.  Don't you fucking shut down on me! Don't do it to my sister!" Val implored and his grip eased. "I'll make it a deal.  You take Tree on her ride and let her show you the world the way she sees it.  I won’t do anything.  I promise I won’t take this from you, okay?  But if it turns into something more, you and me handle it together.  ‘Cause…you’re Batman and I’m Robin, y’know?  I won’t even show him my dental work.”  Val’s tone was light but his gaze was pleading.

Maybe Val didn't think Max had anything to prove to him but Max felt he had something to prove to himself. "For the moment," he said softly, "I'll go along with it. But if it does turn into something, you don't interfere unless I ask for your help. I mean it, Val," he stressed.

Val hesitated, looking back at the two men and then at Max before nodding cautiously. "Just make sure you ask.  I have really good hearing," he said and let go of Max.

Max rotated his shoulders to release some of the tension and then went back to stand next to Tree and Patrick in line. Both of them looked at him questioningly but he merely shook his head and Val saw him make some kind of comment which apparently answered Pat's questions but Tree looked around Max to her brother and Val shook his head slightly and looked over at Jimmy and Charlie.

By the time they'd made it to the front of the line, Max was calmer and Charlie was gone. Jimmy nodded at him as he helped Tree into the seat and then sat beside her. Ferris wheels were not a big deal for Max as far as heights went; the enclosure of the seats made things a bit easier. After everyone was in their seats, Jimmy went back to his post and started the ride. As it rose to the treetops and beyond, Max watched Theresa look around and up at the sky, her face alight with just the sheer joy of the evening. "Isn't it beautiful up here?" she asked him.

"It's...nice," he agreed cautiously.

She punched him on the arm. "Look around you," she chided. "Everything down there doesn't matter right now. Just look at the stars. Doesn't the shine kind of remind you of icicles?"

Max stared. "How can you see things like that?"

She looked at him seriously. "What other way is there to see? You can look at the world and you can see all the bad and think that's all there is or you can find the good and the beautiful and use it."

He shook his head and didn't comment the rest of the ride. When they touched down, Max's eyes went immediately to Val, who indicated he'd remained right where Max had left him. He joined the rest of the group and everyone continued to enjoy the sights and sounds the carnival had to offer while Max and Val surreptitiously kept an eye out for Charlie.

Everyone began to straggle out when closing was announced. The Everetts were a big bunch and Tree left to collect Agnes from one of the booths. Max fell into the back of the group and watched as Agnes and Tim stuck close to Val’s, happy for his friend that his siblings had taken to him so quickly.  As they walked, Max watched the group a moment more and then looked around, counting heads this time because something didn’t seem right.  The answer came to him so abruptly that he stopped and Patrick plowed into him from behind. "Sorry," he apologized. "Listen, go on ahead. I'll be right back."

"Huh? What's goin' on?"

"Nothing," Max lied. "Just keep everyone heading home - especially Val." Before Pat could comment, Max stepped backwards three paces then spun on his heel, quickly disappearing back into the carnival grounds.

The stragglers and lot lice had all been herded out and everything was the eerie quiet that descends after the close of the day. Max had a pretty good idea of where the carnies would be and made his way through the grounds, stopping every now and then to check and see if someone might have something in their booth or near a ride that he could use as a weapon.  He was almost at the point he considered it a lost cause when his search finally turned up a loose tension strut laying underneath the carousel round. He hefted it in his hands, decided it would work, and continued on.

The RVs and camper shell trucks were parked in a haphazard arrangement at the back of the lot.  Some of them had lights on and doors open and Max figured that was where Tree would probably be since Charlie would want to show her off.He skirted around the side of one of the trucks until he could get a glimpse of how many people were there and who might be on Charlie’s side.

It was a small group for which Max gave thanks.  Max was willing to bet a lot of the carnies had decided to go into Atlanta proper and check out some bars, the local Wal-Mart or whatever needed doing.  Tree was kneeling next to Charlie, who was sitting in a lawn chair, a beer in one hand.  The four or five guys sitting near Charlie looked to be around the same age range as Charlie but that didn’t mean he could discount them.  Just because they were older didn’t meant they wouldn’t try to bust his head if they needed to. 

Max breathed deeply, trying to unlock tense muscles.  He stepped out where Charlie could see him. "Tree? You alright?"

Tree’s face was pale and about half of her hair had come out of its braid.  Dirt stained her blouse and jeans, indicating she’d fought Charlie’s abduction of her.  She looked more angry than afraid at the moment but Max could see one of Charlie’s hands wrapped in Tree’s hair which kept her kneeling in front of him.  _Too close.  Way too close._

"She's fine, Max, We were just getting acquainted," Charlie grinned. "She's a pretty girl.  Might have kept you around if I’d known how much your taste would improve.”

"Your breath hasn't!" Tree hissed at him.  He jerked her hair and she cried out a little as the force of it pulled her off her knees.  She landed hard on her left hip and had to grab Charlie’s calf to pull herself back up on her knees. 

"I'd let her go if I were you, Charlie," Max said conversationally as he stepped a bit further into the circle of carnies.  He chanced a quick look at Tree and saw she had scooted as far away from Charlie as she could.  He slapped the strut lightly against his leg. 

"And why might that be?" Charlie stood up but still kept his hand in Tree's hair, pulling her up along with him.

"Because I'd really hate for something to happen to her while I'm beating the shit out of you."  He hefted the strut in his hand, making sure Charlie saw it catch the light. 

“Oh, I think I want her to stay and watch us beat the shit out of her larry boyfriend.”  Charlie pushed Tree towards a knot of other carnies but when he did, she pulled out of his grasp and dodged the hands reaching out for her.  She pushed and shoved and kicked until she was outside the circle of men, then hesitated.

"Max..." Her voice cracked on his name. She wanted to stay and help him.

“Theresa,” Max called while keeping his eyes on Charlie.  “Go home.  _Run_.  Don’t stop until you catch up with your folks.  Go!” he said sharply and was pleased to hear her run off. He saw Charlie glance back where she'd run and catcalled to get Charlie’s attention back on him.  “Come on, Charlie. Now's your big chance.  I’m betting I can kick your ass.”

"Couldn't believe you lived, you little son of a bitch." Charlie had moved around behind the lawn chair he'd been sitting in until Max appeared. Suddenly, he flung it at Max. Max instinctively ducked and Charlie tried to close the distance, rushing at the younger man. Max swung out with the strut and managed to connect solidly with Charlie's thigh as the two of them went down.

Charlie had gotten soft, his bulk not as much of a threat when he was pinned.  But his punches weren't any softer and Max took a solid one along his jaw, rolling with it and then again when a knee caught him just left of his stomach. He rolled and came up swinging, connecting with Charlie’s nose.  He managed a solid punch to Charlie’s ribs which had the older man doubled over and gasping.  Max launched himself at Charlie as the man rose up.  Charlie grabbed another aluminum chair and flung it at Max. Max batted it away but Charlie had gotten to his feet. His face was bloody and one of his friends called his name and tossed a baseball bat to him.

It gave him Max's reach and he charged like a bull at Max, swinging with all his might. Max used the strut to block the swing, twisting to try and wrench the bat away, only to have something slam into his back. Forward momentum carried them to the ground again, Max caught between Charlie and whoever had tackled him from the back.Then he was being hauled up, hands gripping both arms and holding him as Charlie wheezed and coughed his way back to his feet.

"You little shit!" Charlie choked out as he hefted the bat and came towards Max.

Max yanked one arm free and let fly with an elbow back towards whoever was holding him.  He felt the impact all the way up his shoulder as his elbow connected with someone’s face.  The grip on his other arm loosened and he pulled away, twisting to avoid the bat.  It gave him just enough room so that the blow meant to cave in his face struck his shoulder instead.  The full force of the blow struck the man trying to hold him. 

Max heard his would-be captor yell in surprise and pain but was too busy dodging to look back. He flung himself forward and reached out blindly for the strut, closing his fingers over it and rolling back upright as quickly as possible.  His lungs burned and his shoulder ached fiercely.  Something on his face was stinging but he couldn’t take time to figure out what it was.

Charlie had dropped the bat he'd been thrown but picked it up again. Out of the corner of his eye, Max registered somebody dragging away the poor guy Charlie had just slammed. His own arm was numb from the blow and the only way he could verify he was really holding the strut was by looking down but he was still standing.

Charlie came forward again, swinging the bat in a vicious half-circle, and Max had to concentrate on avoiding a variety of blows that could probably have broken bones if they'd connected. Those that he managed to deflect jarred his arm nearly to the point of dropping his own makeshift weapon. His shoulder felt like it was on fire and all the pent-up anger and fear of the past several years was building up to a suicidal edge.

Charlie swung again and the blow caused the pipe to fly out of Max's numb hand. The bat was raised for another swing and Max unthinkingly grabbed at it, pulling Charlie off balance. He stumbled onto his knees and Max raised his leg, kicking him solidly in the ribs as hard as he could. Charlie fell and rolled and Max was on top of him, punching Charlie’s face and body; anywhere exposed and vulnerable. A hand grabbed him and he was pulled into a melee.

He flung punches into whatever his fists could reach and heard exclamations of pain but there were too many people to figure out who or what he was hitting.  Someone kicked him in the stomach and Max’s breath left him in a rush.  As he was gasping, trying to fill his lungs, another set of hands grabbed at him and hauled him up to his knees.

"You hold him still this time, you assholes," Charlie slurred.  Max looked up and saw blood at the corner of Charlie’s mouth and nose and managed a grin although it felt weirdly stretched, like it didn’t really fit on his face.  From the way Charlie was moving, it was obvious Max had hurt him and Max was happy about that.  He was concentrating so hard on staring the figure of his nightmares in the eye that he missed when Charlie kicked out and his boot caught Max under the chin.

His head snapped back and he felt blood flowing as his teeth cut into his lip. His head fell forward and Max spat blood and saliva into the dirt before he raised his head to stare at Charlie again. Charlie took the opportunity to land a solid right to Max’s face.  Red and black sparks shot through his vision.  He shook his head to try and clear it and that was when Charlie landed a kick to his ribs that had Max twisting in his captor’s grips to try and ride out the explosion of pain that centered in his chest and stole his breath. 

When he could breathe again, Max looked up to see Charlie hefting the strut and Max knew with a calm certainly that he was probably going to be beaten to death.  The one thing that gave him comfort was that he’d saved Tree.  If he’d kept Val’s sister safe, then maybe the scales might be balanced a bit even if it meant his life would end.  Tree would never be Rebecca.

He saw Charlie lift the piece of metal and forced himself to watch as the other man prepared to swing.  If he was going to die, he was going to do it with his eyes open.

His arms were suddenly free and he slumped forward, barely catching himself on his bruised knuckles before he ended up face down in the dirt.  The strut dropped to the ground next to him.

"Get up, Max." Val's voice was cool and implacable.

"Private party, pretty boy," Charlie growled. "Take off."

"Remember, Robin," Max coughed as he pushed himself to a kneeling position. "No dental work."

One of them came at Val from the side and he caught the man’s arm and twisted it, yanking it up behind the man's back and pushing him down to the ground. "You seem to be able to invite your friends.  It only seems fair that Max should be able to invite his," Val said and glanced down at Max. "Am I invited? I promise not to mess with your dancing partner there, Max.  But he really doesn't seem to be your type at all.  I think I'm jealous."

"Don't be," Max said through a tongue that felt swollen. He must have bitten it, he decided.  He tried to figure out when that had happened but stopped when his thoughts refused to present him a lucid recap of the past several minutes.  "Not your type, either." He chuckled at the unintentional pun and pushed himself to his feet, grabbing the strut. "But if you don’t mind keeping his buddies occupied, I’d like to get back to beating the shit out of him.”  He advanced on Charlie.  “Payback's a motherfucker, asshole."

Wary now, Charlie backed up until he was up against an RV. If Val said anything or was doing anything, Max wasn't aware of it. His whole world had centered down to him and Charlie and his anger again. His vision seemed like a film that had jumped its track – all odd angles and momentary glimpses of whatever was in the frame but nothing that presented a coherent whole.  He felt oddly detached from his own body and it was as if the weight of the metal in his hand was the only thing keeping him grounded to the earth.

He swung the pipe and thought hecould hear bone crunch under Charlie’s bellow of pain as it landed on his knee. "That hurt, Charlie? Geez, I'm really sorry." His arm was still numb and Max again had to look down to see himself physically holding the strut in order to know it was still there.  He brought it up and connected with Charlie's right arm this time. Charlie’s yell made him feel giddy, crazy drunk.

Max came in low for the third strike and connected with Charlie’s ribcage, dropping the strut as the other man began to sag to the ground and kicked him over and over wherever he could reach; face, head, ribs, torso, stomach, legs.  It didn’t matter.  Nothing mattered except the release pounding through him in time with his heart.  He couldn’t even hear Charlie’s moans anymore, just his heart pounding in his ears like a jackhammer and the rush of wind in his ears as he’d fallen from the rollercoaster track.

Max raised his foot, kicking Charlie in the stomach again with as much force as he could muster. He pulled back to kick him again, felt someone's hand on his arm and spun around, ready to do battle with whoever was there.

Val blocked his punch and pulled him away several steps before catching Max’s chin and forcing the other man to meet his eyes.  "It won't bring her back, Max. It won't make the scar go away," Val said softly and insistently. Max was glassy eyed with years of bottled-up rage, pain and God knew what else. There was blood on his face, on his body, on his clothes.  _Should have got here sooner_ , Val berated himself but kept his words calm.  A movement caught the corner of his eye and he saw Patrick warn off the carny. 

"Pat, have one of them call an ambulance for their friend," Val said without turning around. He shook Max slightly.  “Hey! You with me?”  When Max seemed to be looking at him instead of through him, Val said, “It's over. He paid. The debt’s paid.  You did it on your own, Batman."

"Good," Max managed to say. He tried to smile but it hurt too much.  Everything was starting to get a little fuzzy around the edges and his arms and legs felt cottony and insubstantial.  “Took me almost eight fuckin' years but I finally did it." He thought he said something else but realized he was suddenly down on the ground and nearly in Val’s lap.  It confused him because they were supposed to be off the roof and in Atlanta with Val’s family. 

Going down with him, Val held on and waited to see if Max was going to pass out.  God knew there was enough blood and no real way to tell how much of it was Max’s or Charlie’s.  The tang of it was sharp in his nostrils and Val had to clamp down hard at the scent of so much food. 

A couple of the carnies had gone over to Charlie and were tending him.  If Val listened really hard, he could hear the man's heart slowly beat. It sounded like he would live but Val didn’t give much hope for Charlie to be able to do much more than sweep bowling alleys for a living. _Acceptable punishment._ Pat was still at his back with the baseball bat although Val knew he had questions.  Val used to lose more fights than he won and Patrick kept glancing at him as if he was unsure who this person was wearing his brother’s face. 

"Pat see if there's some ice in that cooler," he said. "Then you’d better get back to Dad before he--"

"You want me to get the truck?" Pat asked, returning with ice wrapped in a stained T-shirt he must have picked up from the debris now littering the impromptu fight ring.

"Yeah, if you would."

"I don't want to leave you here--" Val pressed the ice against Max's mouth and rapidly swelling right eye for a moment before putting it on the back of his friend's neck.  He felt Max flinch and tense and spent several seconds tending him before he turned to look up at Pat again.

"It'll be okay,” Val assured him. 

"How did you…Val, no one moves that fast--” Pat began.

"Just get the truck, Pat. Make sure Theresa is okay." Pat started to say something but either the look on Val’s face stopped him or he’d decided he didn’t want the answer to the question he was asking his little brother.  Instead, he set the bat down beside Val and headed off at a jog to intercept Hugh Everett. 

That name penetrated Max’s haze.  "Tree,” he whispered.

"She's okay,” Val promised.  “Pissed off as hell.  We had to leave her with Dad or she'd have been here with a bat of her own," he chuckled. "How ya doing, Batman?"  He couldn’t hear any bones shifting or anything that indicated a serious internal injury but, then again, he was a vampire, not a doctor.  Taking a corner of the T-shirt, he gently wiped some of the blood off Max’s face.

“Had better days.”  Max’s voice was hoarse but gaining strength.  “Really like to get out of here.”

“We’re working on it,” Val soothed.  He gently ran his hands down Max’s arms and torso to try and ascertain if anything was broken underneath all the bruising.  It was sensitive and painful as hell if the way Max twitched was any indication but his friend didn’t let out a sound.

"Well, I don't think he broke anything,” Val said finally.  “But we’ll get you back to the house and clean you up there.”  He heard the rattle of his father’s truck.  “Split your nice lip, though.”  He decided to take the puff of air that escaped Max as a raspberry for the comment he’d just made and grinned.

Both Patrick and Hugh were in the truck.  Hugh jumped out with his first aid kit but Val pulled Max to his feet, taking the other man’s weight as much as he could and still let Max remain upright.  He felt one of Max’s hands grip the back of his T-shirt, pulling at the fabric as Max swayed back and forth in Val’s arms.  If Val had still needed to breathe, the pressure against his neck would have been decidedly uncomfortable.  “Just get us home, Dad,” Val said.  He could hear sirens.  “I don’t think anyone here is going to press charges.”  He got an arm around Max’s waist and managed to turn him towards the truck.  Max was limping but he wasn't complaining which was not necessarily a good thing when it came to the hawker.

"I will!" Hugh snapped out even as he turned to follow his son."Taking my daughter--"

"Dad!" Val's voice was sharp. "Theresa is _fine_.  He scared her, that's all. It's over and neither Max nor I need to have the cops asking questions. If you can't do that much, then you can do whatever the hell you like and I will get Max on a plane tonight and head back to New Orleans!"

Hugh stared at him and then Max, who tried his best to meet the elder Everett's eyes and thought he was mostly successful even though Hugh was kind of blurry to him at best. "You should have killed the son of a bitch!" Hugh spat, his jaw tense.  But he got back in the truck and Pat jumped in the back while Val helped Max into the cab.  Max wanted to say something, to explain or apologize, but the words didn’t seem to make sense when he tried them out in his head so he gave up and thought he’d sleep until they got home.  That didn’t seem to work, either.  Val kept tapping him on the face – which hurt and needed to stop like, now – or asking him questions that Max swore Val knew the answer to already.  Val was persistent, though, so Max gave up and gave in to Val’s desire to talk. 

When they got home, Val helped Max out of the truck and both he and Hugh helped Max up the porch steps while Isabel held the door open, simultaneously clucking over Max and engaging in a bilingual Italian/English argument with her husband and Frank.  She moved ahead of them and opened the door to the guest bath.  Val thanked his mother and helped Max sit down on the toilet before closing the door.  He started the water running in the sink and grabbed one of the washcloths from the nearby towel bar, putting it under the warm spray and wringing it out several times.   "I'm beginning to think being around me is bad for your health," Val said lightly.

"I dunno," Max said, voice muffled, as Val tipped his head back and began cleaning the blood off his face. "I kinda look at it as my way of helping you keep up your nursing skills.”  The washcloth moved and pressed firmly against his split lip.  “Ow!" he yelped.

Once Val had helped clean Max’s injuries and Hugh had checked him over for any broken or fractured bones, they came out of the bathroom to both Val’s parents insisting they stay the night so they could keep an eye on Max.  Val gave in and led Max upstairs into a room that had a single double bed.  "Bernadette's room," Val told him. "She called and said she wouldn't be home tonight."

"Yeah, you probably set that up so you could have me all to yourself. Wild night and all that."  Max decided he could feel every last punch and kick.  His head hurt.  His bruises throbbed.  He could only really see out of one eye.  The metallic taste of blood was still in the back of his throat and exhaustion was beginning to overtake him.

Val laughed and pulled the blankets back. "Good thing I don't need sleep then, isn't it, Max?”  He grabbed the pillows and plumped them.  “Momma's making up some tea.  It totally tastes like shit but I promise you’ll sleep and you’ll feel better in the morning.”

"Val?" Pat was in the doorway holding out some sweats. "Best I can do. You and Max are just too damn skinny."

"It's fine, Patrick. Thanks." Val said, accepting the clothes. "I'll swing by the hotel after we get Max settled and pick up some clothes."

His brother nodded but hesitated. "You got a nasty streak in you, Max," he said when both men were looking at him.

Max tensed. "So I've been told," he said flatly to Pat. "It's served me well in the past."

"Didn't mean it that way," Pat said, red-faced. "Meant I'd be glad to have you at my back in a brawl. You too, Val. I guess I better not threaten to wipe the floor with your skinny ass anymore, huh?"

"Probably not," Val said coolly.

Pat nodded. "Let me know when you’re ready to go to the hotel. I'll drive you," he said and left them, closing the door.

Val held out the sweats to Max, who managed to grab them after one or two false starts.  He turned his back and went to look out the window but the overhead room light created a reflection and he realized he was watching Max strip.  He appreciatively noted the long line of Max’s thigh and how it melded into the curve of his ass when Max pulled down his jeans before he tore his gaze away to give his friend some privacy.  But even with the best of intentions, he kept sneaking looks until Max collapsed on the bed, torso bare and sweatpants hanging precariously on his hips. 

"That was a mistake," Max groaned as Val turned around and sat on the edge of the bed. "I don't think I'm ever going to get up again."

"You could make a lot of money laying right there," Val teased while his mind replayed the images from the unexpected peep show.

"Thanks for the critique," Max shot back.

He closed his eyes for a moment and Val wondered if he should leave but then Max opened them again. 

"Hey, bro, do me a favor?" He waited until Val nodded. "Don't tell Tree about my beating the shit out of Charlie.  Or, uh, well, why I...went so crazy, huh?" he finished softly, nearly mumbling.

"She already knows about Charlie but not why and I won't,” Val said.  “Chances are she won't ask and neither will Dad but you should tell them sometime." As he spoke, Max started to yawn but the movement was abruptly stopped by pain and Val had to laugh as Max tried to complete the yawn without moving his jaws.

"There's a second part to the favor," Max quietly added.

Val sighed dramatically, "I do one freaking favor," he said in a fair pass at Max's New Jersey accent. He grinned. "What? Don't tell me you've changed your mind and want me to make an honest man out of you?"

Max rolled the one eye that was not swollen shut, then he bit his lip.  “Umm…hang out here for a bit?  Sometimes…”  He looked over at the vanity tucked into the corner of the room and then back at Val. “Sometimes I have…dreams.  About what happened,” he clarified.  He stopped, at a loss for how to try and explain or ask for what he needed. 

Val reached out and touched Max's foot under the blankets. "Not going anywhere, bro,” he promised.  “But answer me a question?”

“Sure,” Max said after a moment.  “Not sure what you don’t know about me at this point but go ahead.”

“Why Jimmy?”  Val elaborated at Max’s confused look.  “You told Jimmy that you two were square.  If he was part of that whole crew back then, why did he get a pass and Charlie didn’t?”

Max looked at the ceiling when he replied.  “I wasn’t conscious...after.  But the hospital told me later that someone had brought me and…and the body in, left us at the ER door and called out for help.  They didn’t get a real good look at the guy before he took off but who they described?  It was Jimmy.”

They were interrupted by Val's mother showing up with the aforementioned tea. Max had to privately agree with Val that it tasted the way really dirty socks smelled. Isabel laughed at the face he made when he took his first unprepared sip and then continued to cluck over both her "boys", running her hand through Max's hair and leaning over to touch her son from time to time. When she finally left, it was with a stern admonition that Max should go to sleep and Val should do the same.

"Yes, momma," Val obediently answered, his eyes dancing. He turned to Max when the door shut.  “You heard the lady.”

“If only so I don’t have to drink that tea again,” Max agreed.  He shifted, trying to find the position that hurt the least and finally managed it.  Val turned out the lamp and sat there quietly in the dark.

"Hey," came Max's drowsy voice. "You eaten yet?"

"I'm okay."

"You need to?"

"Max, you are starting to sound like my mother," Val chided and moved up to sit at the head of the bed close enough to touch Max. "I'll take care of it when Pat and I go to the hotel. Go to sleep," he added gently.

There was another soft knock on the door. "Grand Central Station," Val muttered and got up to open it.

"I just came to say goodnight..." Theresa said and flushed.  Val grinned at her.

"Well, he's not snoring yet," Val said and beckoned her in.

She moved a little tentatively around the bed to Max's side. She was in a pair of men’s-style pajama pants and a T-shirt that looked like it had seen the better side of a few years. Her face was scrubbed clean, dark hair loose.

"I just wanted to check and make sure you were okay," she said, and a frown marred her face at the split lip, black eye and bruises.

"I'm fine," he assured her, barely remembering to break off before the near-obligatory "you ought to see the other guy". She might have and he didn’t want to know.

"Pat has decided not to become a bouncer," she said with an impish grin. "He said you are one kick-ass son of a bitch and that he will leave it to the guys who are younger and not so good-looking as he is," she added and Val snickered in the corner behind Max.

She reached out to touch Max's cheek and push his hair back from his forehead. "I told him he should wish he looked as good as you," she said and a blush tinged her cheeks but she didn't drop her gaze. "But no more, okay? I like your face the way it is. And the rest of you," she finished in a rush.  The blush deepened and she leaned over and kissed him lightly on the corner of his mouth, away from the cut.  Her loose hair brushed against his face and chest as she did so. "Thank you," she whispered against his cheek. "Val sent me a dragon to protect me for my birthday. He didn't say he was going to bring me a knight as well." Another kiss, just a butterfly whisper of lips against his cheek, and she moved away.

"Sleep good. I'll see you in the morning," she said and left the room.

Max stared at the door long after it had shut.

"Why do I think you are not going to dream – at least about what happened?" Val mused idly, sitting back down on the bed again. "Go to sleep, Max. I'll be right here, Batman."

"You'll probably leave me for some sweet young thing the moment my back is turned," Max retorted.  He thought he could still smell Tree’s perfume lingering in the air.  He licked his lips and grimaced.  "What does your mother brew that stuff with? Industrial strength Nyquil and then strain it through last week's laundry?"

"Careful or I'll tell her you need more," Val threatened.

“And here I thought we were friends, Everett.”  When Val lightly tapped him on the head with the spare pillow, Max got the message and shut up.  He closed his eyes and let himself drift, feeling warmer and more secure than he had in a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an independent work based on the concept of the Kindred from the White Wolf World of Darkness Role-Playing Game and Novels. The concept of Immortality and the Game as presented here are the property of Gregory Widen and Panzer/Davis Productions, as are the characters of Duncan MacLeod and Methos (among others.) The Lattice characters and concepts appear here by permission of V. Watts and M. Snowden. All other characters and concepts are the property and creation of thewildmole and V. Watts.
> 
> Maygra and I originally began this saga way back in the dark reaches of the 1990's. We might have called this When Worlds Collide because it is a collision of sorts. Take a World of Darkness RPG, a healthy dose of the original universe set out in Lattice (by Snowden and Watts) and toss in two young men trying to make sense of the world around them, the balances between Chaos and Order, and the need to hold onto their own souls and you have Twin Sons and Different Brothers. Max and Val met by accident -- not unlike their creators. Maygra and I have enjoyed a long friendship apart from this collaboration but it would have never originally happened without this story. Having some time on my hands, I (thewildmole) decided to edit the original work and repost it (something Maygra is fine with). ...
> 
> We warn you now that the language is frequently harsh and the situations harsher. (Rated NC17 for violence, language and sexual situations.) The NPC Characters of Tevis, Madeleine, Crispin and assorted other vampires and inhabitants of New Orleans, belong to original World of Darkness RPG Game Mistress and Goddess Meg Wittenmyer (I think we have her permission.)
> 
> Warning: The following story may be rated G, PG, R, NC17 or even X. It may contain graphic depictions of sex between men or between men and women. I can pretty much guarantee there won't be any sex between people and animals...but nothing is ever 100%. Vampires, Immortals, Jedi and other anomolies are fair game though. There may be violence, graphic violence, nudity, bad language or adult themes. There may be non-consensual sex, rape, partner rape, hurt/comfort, and mental anguish. There may be torture, sadism, masochism, bondage, or bad verb conjugations. There may be death, there may be a major character death. The ending may be happy or it may be really depressing. There may be much affection, cuddling and kissing. There may be an uneasy resolution. Over-the-topness is not guaranteed but is highly probable. There may even be a plot. Or, there may be none of those things. You have been warned.This material may not be copied or distributed without permission--we intend no copyright infringement, make no profit and promise to share. Welcome to the darkside of the soap opera. Comments may be be sent to thewildmole@gmail.com and maygra@bellsouth.net


	8. New Day

Max slowly opened his eyes and blinked at his surroundings several times before memory stepped in and reminded him he was in the spare bedroom at the Everetts’ house.  Glancing around, he saw both his and Val’s bags on the floor by the dresser with a few fresh towels lying on top of them.  A clock on the nightstand told him it was well after 10 a.m. so he pushed the covers back and sat up, tentatively stretching.  Things still hurt or ached but not nearly as bad as last night.  His shoulder was down to a dull roar.  A glance in the vanity mirror told him, however, that he had a spectacular black eye and cut lip along with various assorted bruises decorating his torso.  He found the bathroom and grabbed a shower, then returned to the bedroom and got dressed before heading for the stairs. 

It was quieter than Max expected. In fact, it was damn near silent. He followed the scent of the coffee to the kitchen and found Pat seated at the kitchen table and reading the newspaper. The man looked up with a partial smile on his face that made him look much less sullen than was his usual wont. "It lives!" he quipped. "You want some coffee?" he asked, getting up.

"Sure," Max said. "Where is everybody?" He'd gotten used to the noise and the quiet seemed odd.

"At mass,” Pat replied.  There was the clink of a cup on the counter behind him and Max could hear coffee being poured.  Pat returned to the table and pushed the cup in front of Max.  “Momma will fix a big breakfast when they get back around noon but if you're hungry, I could probably rustle up somethin'. Momma and Val insisted we let you sleep yourself out so even the kids were quiet. You are quite the hero," Pat said with an odd little twist to his tone.

"I'm just a guy." Max sat himself down in the chair across from Pat. "Believe me, I would much rather last night hadn't happened. I fight if I need to but it's not something I enjoy." The hot coffee stung against his healing lip and he grimaced. "I try to keep the nasty streak under wraps."

Pat was silent for a long moment, sipping his coffee. "I gotta ask," he said finally, voice soft. "Last night...the fight.  Val and I came running back and, well, Val has always been fast on his feet; helped him from getting the shit beat out of him more than once. But what I saw last night?  He saw you go down and suddenly he was just... _there_. One minute he was beside me and the next minute he was beside you. Had one guy down without hardly touching him and blocked a punch I thought would break his jaw.  For a minute there, I swear I thought he was going to kill that guy that was pounding on you.”  Pat swallowed. "What the hell’s happened to my little brother?"

Max sipped his coffee, trying to buy himself some time. "When was the last time you saw Val?" he asked.

"About five years ago," Pat said and flushed, knowing how it soundedwhen Val had been living not ten blocks from the house.

"Then it's been a bit. People change." Max wondered how to continue. "Val and I don't live in a nice, pretty neighborhood and we don't associate with nice, pretty people. There are some fairly nasty types where we are."

"I knew thathe sometimes got caught up in some rough situations but he’s…he’s different now.  Even when he was living here, he was still the same kid.”  Pat paused.  “He still looks the same…mostly.  But…you mean what he does for a living, he learned that as part of it?”

"No,” Max said.  _Why am I always the one with the cover story?_ “What I'm trying to say is that you guys here get to live. Val and I work on surviving. So Val's better at fighting then when you last saw him. Maybe he didn't have a choice." And that was about as close to the truth as Max was going to get without Val's permission. It sounded more than a bit “movie of the week” to his ears but Max's read on Pat was that for all his bluster, he'd really never been too far outside the confines of his world in Atlanta. There was no way he would have tried the same speech on Hugh or Frank.

"I can't imagine any life or any place that would make that big of a difference. Not that I want to try out Val's lifestyle," Pat snorted, momentarily diverted. "But I would like to see places. Last night was about as exciting as it gets. New Orleans has to be more interesting. Don't know why he came back...or you with him," he added, seemingly baffled at the man sitting across from him.

"I like it here. Really," Max said to Pat's skeptical glance. "See how the other half lives and all."

"Hand to mouth, mostly," Pat replied but there was no rancor. He eyed Max for a moment then shook his head and got more coffee. Obviously Max was not going to give him any insight into the changes he'd seen in his brother and Pat didn't know whether he should be grateful or not.

The two sat there, Pat giving Max the parts of the paper he'd read already and the only sound was the clock ticking away the minutes.  They both heard the truck drive in and the screen door slam open.

"They're home," Pat sing-songed. "Might want to get standing before you get trampled by the herd."

Max thought getting trampled didn't sound like a bad deal, really.

It was not unlike a small-scale stampede. The kids tumbled in, papers and Bible lessons in their hands, dressed in their Sunday best, and quickly ushered upstairs to change by Bernadette and Frank while Hugh and Pat and Theresa started to put breakfast together. Isabel fussed over Max, getting him ice and a salve until Bernadette reappeared.  Max suddenly found himself holding one-year-old Joseph, feeding him graham crackers while Joe babbled on completely unintelligibly about a variety of subjects that he was apparently sure Max needed to know about. He also got to meet Frank's eleven year-old daughter Caroline, who was a charmer and a flirt with bright red hair and big blue eyes.

Breakfast finally ended up on the table, piles and platters of eggs and bacon and sausage, grits and tomatoes. Enough food to feed a third world country, Max thought, except by the time they were done, there wasn't much left. The kids took off to play outside and the house calmed down again, leaving Hugh, Max, Isabel and Theresa sitting at the table.

"Val asked it you could do something for him before he left for work," Isabel said and pushed an envelope across the table to Max. "He has a friend over in Little Five Points and wanted to know if you could drop this off. Theresa knows where it is. We thought - and you can say no, Max," Isabel warned him. "We thought you and Theresa might take the station wagon and the little ones. Maybe do a little sight-seeing, buy the children some ice cream maybe.”  Her expression was serious but her eyes were smiling at him. 

"Chaperones," Theresa said under her breath and her father glared at her half-heartedly. "But I would like to go,” she quickly added.  “We could maybe take them to the park too?”

"Sure," Max said, watching Joseph dribble graham crackers down his bib overalls. "If someone will take care of Joey here?”

They gathered the kids up and Hugh gave Theresa money for their lunches as if somehow knowing Max would refuse. Isabel gave Max the keys to her station wagon but stopped him before he could go to the car.

"You like our Theresa?" She asked him with a smile.

Max felt himself flush.  _I’m going to kill you, Val._ "Yes'm," he mumbled.

She smiled and took his hand in hers.  “You are a good young man.  I am very glad Val brought you with him and not just because of last night.”  She looked angry for a moment and then took a deep breath.  "You are Val's age and Theresa is seventeen – almost eighteen. But she...she is still a woman. I was only ayear older than she when I married Hugh. She is not too young for you, Max, nor are you too old. But she is youngand she can be very...persistent. So, you don't let her talk you into anything you know is a bad idea," she said seriously. "Young girls go to a man's head and he turns to putty. So you have to be smarter than my Theresa for now. "

_It's not putty I'm worried about turning into_. "Don't worry, Mrs. Everett," he told her and tried to find words to explain himself. "Theresa is very...beautiful inside and out. I wouldn't want to do anything that would change that."

She gazed at him for a moment and then handed him the car keys. "I never thought you would, Max." Before he could do anything more than gape at her, Theresa and the kids were there and she was busy making sure everyone had what they needed before she would let them leave. Once out of the driveway, Max followed Theresa's directions to Little Five Points.

"What is this place?" He looked at the envelope. "Lattice?"

"It's a bookstore," Theresa explained. "Val knows the people who run it."

"Val seems to know everybody." Max was silent for a minute and concentrated on following Tree’s directions. "I'm...sorry about last night," he finally said. "Charlie's not anyone that I even care to run into."

"You're forgiven," she said easily and smiled at him. The smile faded after a moment and she looked a little angry. "It makes me mad that he used me to get to you.  Asshole,” she muttered under her breath.  “Him.  Not you.  How did you ever meet such aloser?"

"We...um...used to work together a while back. He'sthe reason I...look the way I do now." Theresa looked like she was about to ask him another question and he shook his head in a silent request for her to leave it alone for now.  She subsided and Max tried to concentrate on driving instead of the young woman beside him. 

Little Five Points turned out to be one of those trendy, cutting-edge, pocket business districts. Theresa directed him to a restaurant on one corner to park and then helped make sure the kids were spread between them as they crossed the street. Old storefronts refurbished for new business promised vintage clothes, handmade pottery, art galleries, ethnic restaurants and more.  Lattice was the second largest storefront on a long row, flanked on one side by an upscale cappuccino bar and restaurant and what Max was certain was cover for a head shop on the other side.

There was age to this section of town as well. Residential areas crowded in on all sides, some showing signs of reconstruction and renovation; old, lovely houses that were being restored like the ones Max saw when he helped Frank and Hugh. On the other side of the street were homes and old apartments obviously occupied but that looked like they should be condemned.

"Fire!" Tim called out and Max glanced over, alarmed, until he realized Tim was pointing at a fire eater, a busker like him performing for spare change. 

"I'll take them to watch while you drop off Val's note," Theresa said as both kids started to run towards the sidewalk show. "If you see Andrew tell him I said hi. Big, blond guy," she added.

Max almost protested, not unreasonably nervous after the night before.  But it was broad daylight and while there were some seedy looking characters about they seemed harmless enough and other parents and kids were walking and watching so he decided it would be okay. He watched them settle on a bench in front of the performer and went into the store. It was cooler and slightly darker than the outdoors and he waited for his eyes to adjust.

"Can I help you?" a voice called out.

Squinting just a little, he could see a petite black woman behind the counter. "Yeah," he told her. "I'm supposed to drop off something for...Andrew McAran," he read, looking down at the envelope. "From Valentine Everett."

The woman smiled at him. "Andy doesn't work on Sundays, but he'll be by this evening most like. You can leave it for him if you want."

Max dropped the envelope on the countertop per the woman's request and started to head back outside, noting titles as he walked by them. It was heavily slanted towards New Age-y kind of stuff as far as he could tell.  He glanced out the huge glass window to see Theresa and the kids still beingentertained and slowed his pace so his eyes could slide over the rows of merchandise: candles and crystals, suncatchers and incense, all kinds of small sculptures and pottery, musical instruments and two cases of jewelry. Some of the merchandise looked simple and some of it more expensive and obviously hand-crafted.

The sunlight catching the silver in the jewelry case caught his eye and Max went to take a closer look. Some of it was miniature dreamcatchers and other items mounted on pin backs, made into earrings or hung on chains. Glancing out the window, he watched Tree pointing out other performers to Agnes and Tim. She was really pretty.  She liked him if Val was telling the truth and liked him as more than her brother’s friend.  He still wasn't quite ready to let himself completely believe what Val, Tree and now Mrs. Everett were telling him. It was fragile and precious to him, like a long-awaited, coveted present that he had to keep peeking under the lid to make sure it was still there.

The woman came over to him. "Can I help you?"

"I was trying to find something as a thankyou kind of thing," he explained. "I haven't really picked stuff out like this before."

"Who's it for?" Max's glance strayed back out to Theresa and the woman followed it, smiling as she understood. She pulled a blue velvet lined board out from the display case and set it in front of him. Bending her head next to his, she pointed out several pieces and Max looked at them carefully. The last piece she showed him was a stylized silver pendant strung onto a chain that seemed as delicate as a silk strand from a spider'sweb.

"That's it." It took nearly all the cash he had in his pocket but he was absurdly pleased with himself and carefully stuck the small box in his back pocket. "Thanks," he called out as he left.

Back outside, he and Tree agreed to take the kids to the park as promised. Once there, Tree used some of the money Hugh had given her to buy them some hot dogs from a vendor. A short time later, the kids were running around playing tag and Max and Theresawere watching from underneath the shade of a tree.

"You're still in school, right?" he asked her.

"Yes. One more year of Sister Michaelina and Chemistry." She grinned ruefully. "Where did you go to school?"

"I didn't finish. Dropped out when I was 16."

"Like Val," she said. "Did you ever want to go back?"

"Never really thought about it," he answered. "I never enjoyed it very much. I moved around a lot anyway so I generally got stuck in the same classes over and over. What about you? What are you going to do with all this education?" he teased.

"My parents want me to go to college,” Tree told him.  “I have good enough grades. I could probably get a Hope Scholarship but I don't know what I want to do."

"Me, either." At her startled look, he continued, "It's not like you hit some magic age and suddenly your entire life is planned out. I've just mostly been knocking around the country since I was sixteen. Thought I'd be a carny and, well, that that didn't work out. I've been in New Orleans for a few years and..."  Max stopped and shrugged.

"Do you like it there?"

He wanted to say that he was thinking about staying here, wanted to say it out loud and see what Tree said next. "I'm not sure," he finally hedged. "Have to check out my options."

"That's right.  Gotta keep those options open," she said with a disparaging sound. "You sound like Frank when I ask him if he's ever going to get married again. "I dunno.  Gotta check out my options!" It was a fair imitation of her oldest brother. "Men!"

"Thank you very much," Max snorted and punched Tree lightly in the arm. She hit him back and he chucked her under the chin, knowing the childish gesture would push her buttons. "You..." she sputtered.

"At a loss for words, Tree? Didn't think that happened." The gleam that appeared in her eyes told Max he was about to pay for that last comment.

"Actions speak louder than words," she said and poked at him, watching him jerk away and her eyes gleamed and she did it again. "You’re ticklish!"

"Not!" Max protested but Tree was on him, small fingers digging into his ribs with little pinches here and there, until he rolled away, laughing.  She pounced on him and they started wrestling.  She might be female but she was no weakling as she grabbed at his wrists to force them down by his waist.  She looked down at him from her vantage point. 

He was now looking up at her face silhouetted by the afternoon sky as she sat atop his waist and leaning over him, grinning in victory. He could feel her breasts brush against his chest as she leaned over, setting off a wave of desire in his own body. "Think you've won, huh?" he asked.

"Looks like it from where I sit!" she said, grinning impudently.

"Guess again." He used his greater weight to twist beneath her and managed to flip her over, duplicating her previous position. "Now what'chagonna do?" he asked and raised an eyebrow.

"I guess you win," she said with a smile and a saucy, challenging look in her eyes. "Winner gets to pick the prize," she added a little more softly, eyes sparkling.  Max suddenly had the uneasy feeling this match was rigged.

Before he could answer, what felt like a pile of bricks dropped onto his back and he lost his balance. Rolling to the side, Tim and Agnes pounced on him and Tree, attempting to pin the two of them down. For one second, Max irrationally wished all small children off the face of the earth.

"Off! Off!" Tree said, still laughing but with a look on her face that told Max she was as disappointed by the interruption as he was. Still, she pulled the kids off and then tickled them for good measure until they were all exhausted and lying back on the grass to stare contentedly at the clouds and come up with shapes. Then it was off to the bathrooms and back into the car to head home for dinner.

All in all, Max decided it had been a pretty good day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an independent work based on the concept of the Kindred from the White Wolf World of Darkness Role-Playing Game and Novels. The concept of Immortality and the Game as presented here are the property of Gregory Widen and Panzer/Davis Productions, as are the characters of Duncan MacLeod and Methos (among others.) The Lattice characters and concepts appear here by permission of V. Watts and M. Snowden. All other characters and concepts are the property and creation of thewildmole and V. Watts.
> 
> Maygra and I originally began this saga way back in the dark reaches of the 1990's. We might have called this When Worlds Collide because it is a collision of sorts. Take a World of Darkness RPG, a healthy dose of the original universe set out in Lattice (by Snowden and Watts) and toss in two young men trying to make sense of the world around them, the balances between Chaos and Order, and the need to hold onto their own souls and you have Twin Sons and Different Brothers. Max and Val met by accident -- not unlike their creators. Maygra and I have enjoyed a long friendship apart from this collaboration but it would have never originally happened without this story. Having some time on my hands, I (thewildmole) decided to edit the original work and repost it (something Maygra is fine with). ...
> 
> We warn you now that the language is frequently harsh and the situations harsher. (Rated NC17 for violence, language and sexual situations.) The NPC Characters of Tevis, Madeleine, Crispin and assorted other vampires and inhabitants of New Orleans, belong to original World of Darkness RPG Game Mistress and Goddess Meg Wittenmyer (I think we have her permission.)
> 
> Warning: The following story may be rated G, PG, R, NC17 or even X. It may contain graphic depictions of sex between men or between men and women. I can pretty much guarantee there won't be any sex between people and animals...but nothing is ever 100%. Vampires, Immortals, Jedi and other anomolies are fair game though. There may be violence, graphic violence, nudity, bad language or adult themes. There may be non-consensual sex, rape, partner rape, hurt/comfort, and mental anguish. There may be torture, sadism, masochism, bondage, or bad verb conjugations. There may be death, there may be a major character death. The ending may be happy or it may be really depressing. There may be much affection, cuddling and kissing. There may be an uneasy resolution. Over-the-topness is not guaranteed but is highly probable. There may even be a plot. Or, there may be none of those things. You have been warned.This material may not be copied or distributed without permission--we intend no copyright infringement, make no profit and promise to share. Welcome to the darkside of the soap opera. Comments may be be sent to thewildmole@gmail.com and maygra@bellsouth.net


	9. A Hat Full of Sky

Time was winding down and Max still hadn’t given the necklace to Tree. The small box had been in his back jeans pocket the entire day but there had been no moment alone with her. Well, to be honest, there had been one but he'd been too tongue-tied to take advantage of it. If this had been Yvette before they’d broken up, there would have been no problem. Then again, he admitted to himself, he probably wouldn't have done this for Yvette. Their relationship was something that had been brought together by her need for help and then staying together as they'd tried to navigate the waters of the world after dark. But the ties that had held it together were loose at best and had since snapped in two.

Theresa Elizabeth Everett was a different matter entirely. First off, she was "nice". In Max's world, that meant she wasn't a stripper, a dancer, a hooker, or a Mob girlfriend. The fact Tree was his best friend’s sister should have sealed the deal as far as not acting on any attraction to her except Val didn't seem to mind. In fact, he seemed to be encouraging Max to investigate the possibility of a relationship with his sister. Theresa herself had made no secret of the fact that she liked Max.  _So what, exactly, is my problem?_

Sitting on the front porch, he sighed and put his chin in his hands. He was the problem. Another possible world had opened up this weekend and he was at a definite crossroads. If it was his choice alone, Max knew he would probably try to stay in Atlanta and find some way to make it work.  Still, he had obligations – obligations he’d agreed to yet ones that made it difficult, if not impossible, to leave them behind.  And he _wouldn’t_ drag Tree into that mess.  He wouldn’t.  Val had intimated once early on in their friendship that he knew some people who might be able to help him but Max had chalked it up to hot air on his friend's part.

The screen door opened and Tree stepped out like his thoughts had summoned her. "Hi," he offered.

"You gonna come in?" she asked.

"No.  I think I'll just wait here for Val," he told her. "Besides, if I step back inside, your mother is going to try and make me eat something and I'm about ready to burst as it is."

She smiled at the nod to her mother's well-known habits. "Well...if you're all right, then," she said, preparing to go back inside.

"Tree." _Great. Now what?_ "Come join me?" He waited, not realizing he was holding his breath until she'd sat down next to him with her skirt arranged over her legs and pooling around her feet. This close he could see her dark eyes outlined by sooty lashes and catch a hint of the shampoo she used. "Um..." He reached back and drew the small box out of his pocket, hiding it in his hands. "You guys have been really nice to me this weekend - especially you. I mean, you dragged me around everywhere." Max winced.  That sounded bad. "And I wanted to find something to thank you."

"But you're Val's friend in New Orleans and you came back with him to visit us," she protested. "You made my parents very happy."

_Only 'cause they don't know everything about me_ , he thought but quashed it before that train of thought got him off course. He shrugged instead, an acknowledgement that what she said might be true. "Anyway...I wanted you to have this as a thank you." Max awkwardly put the box in her hand and then stared fixedly out into the yard. He heard her opening it and then a small sound as she pulled away the tissue paper covering the necklace.

"I hope it's OK."

"It's beautiful," she told him. "Would you help me put it on?"

Max automatically held out his hand and watched the small puddle of silver form as she slowly dropped the necklace into it. Picking it up, he fumbled the small catch between his thumbs and forefingers before finally separating the two strands. Tree turned slightly away and lifted her hair off her neck as Max leaned forward to draw the chain over her head and then let the clasp spring together.

She turned back around and he lifted his fingers to cup her jaw, touching his lips to hers.  He moved away slightly to see her reaction and caught a brief smile. "Surely that isn't the best you can do?" she asked.

Max laughed softly. "No. I can do a lot better." He inclined his head a bit and leaned in again, letting his tongue lightly brush Tree's lips and feeling her mouth open in response.

"Good evening, you two," came Val's voice.  He was standing in the doorway, the screen door open just enough for him to step halfway out onto the porch.

Max pulled back, startled.

"Theresa," Val said softly. "I know you can say thank you properly.”  He let the screen door close again.

Before Max could say or do anything he felt Tree's hand on his face, turning him to her. Her fingers were trembling a little but they were warm and gentle as was her mouth. Her lips were moist and soft, and parted and Max's mouth opened in surprise. Her tongue touched his, tentatively, then retreated and Max followed. She wasn't an expert but she was generous and sweet and willing. Her fingers slid through his hair for just a moment before she pulled back.

His hand, the one he kept hidden whenever possible, came up to brush her long hair before curving around the back of her neck. He kissed her again, mouth open, and let her take the lead.

She was bolder this time, sealing their mouths together and exploring his with far less hesitancy than before.  She mimicked his pose, one hand sliding up to cup around the back of his neck, her thumb brushing gently against his skin as the kiss deepened.  Max wanted to pull Tree up against him and feel the warmth of her body, her breasts, against his chest.  Instead, he let her end the kiss and then lightly touched his lips to hers one last time.

Her cheeks were pink, but she smiled and touched his mouth. "Thank you," she said very softly.  She touched her pendant, eyes wide and deep and a little moist-looking before she rose and went swiftly into the house. Max heard her say something and a moment later Val emerged.

The vampire settled down slowly next to Max, leaning back on his elbows and staring up at the sky. He said nothing but there was a faint smile on his mouth.

Max waited until he couldn't stand it any longer. "Yes?" he asked, knowing full well he had just offered himself up as a target.

"So, Griffin," Val said, not looking at him. "Don't you like my sister?" he asked and then started laughing. "I wish I had a camera," he said and his laughter eased off, replaced by an approving smile on his face. "Welcome to 'Leave It to Beaver', Batman. How do you feel?"

"How do I feel? The world is wide open before me and I'm not even on a roof." Max sighed and copied Val’s pose. "It's nice to dream, isn't it?"

"Oh, God!" Val exclaimed.  Exasperated, he laid back on the porch, knees propped up on the steps. "Lord, I know the man's not stupid but he is sure as shit blind as a bat!" He sat up suddenly, giving Max that direct look of his that Max knew would bode no good if he didn’t pay attention. "What is it with you?” he snapped.  “Max, if you had to choose right now between what you have and this? Which would you pick?"

"If I had a choice?" Max corrected. "I think this would be it." He looked around at the tree-lined streets and the other houses.  "I know it ain't perfect and I've seen bits and pieces of the stuff you told me about but...to be legit," he nearly whispered.  His eyes strayed back to where Theresa had disappeared through the door. After a moment, he cleared his throat. "Anyway, we've had this discussion and we both know the outcome."

"Give me strength," Val groaned and shifted down a step or two until he was sitting just below Max, but right in his line of sight. "You know, underneath the clapboard, the station wagons and all the other stuff you look at as out of your reach, there is a shitload of things that nobody ever sees or talks about. Everybody has a past, Max. But you are so fucking certain that yours is so dark and awful that no one would ever believe you could be worth more given a chance – even half a chance.  Do you still not get that even though you made some bad choices under some lousy circumstances, you can still make good choices?  Have something to look back on years down the road that says, hey, maybe you did some good after all?  Shit,” Val cursed.  “How hard _did_ Charlie hit you in the head?” 

“Hey!” Max protested.

Val held up his hand to forestall any further objections from Max.  “I don't know what you think about religion, Max, but in the Catholic Church there is a process of confession and atonement. That's what my dad has done his whole life for the things he’s done. It's not easy. He has taken a lot of grief for it over the years and lost some jobs but he’s happy.  Not all the time of course – nobody is.  He loves my mother, though, and she loves him. He has friends.  He has a family; kids who love him.”Val paused and looked up at the sky. "And that, as much as anything, is why I can't keep coming back here," he said bitterly. "Why I can't...won't keep trying to be something that I can't be.  I’m not like you, Max. I can't stop being a vampire unless somebody kills me for good."

He dropped his voice and crouched down next to Max.  “And I can't atone.  I can't promise I won't ever kill anyone again or be party to something I hate like Madeleine's business.”  Val looked around the porch, eyes staying longest at the door into the house.  It was a door that was now firmly closed to him even if his family didn’t know.  It had been his choice to leave all those years ago and his choice to pick up the trick that had turned him.  He might not have chosen to be turned but he’d made all the choices that had led up to that moment.

This glimpse into what might have been was his penance.

“Val,” Max said slowly.  “If there is some kind of system like you’re talking about?  I gotta believe you’re on the plus side of things.  Wouldn’t be right otherwise.  The things you did aren’t much different than the things I’ve done.  Just…different reasons, different times.  You keep talking about me and what I can do but you’ve got somethin’ that Maddie for all her games can't ever touch."

Val sounded like he was trying to say some kind of goodbye and Max didn’t understand why that might be the case.  There was nothing for either of them here no matter how much he wanted to think so.  Tree was pretty and she liked him.  Nevertheless, she was part of a dream.  Being part of a family like Val’s was part of a dream.  New Orleans was the reality.  He rubbed the palms of his hands against the weathered, painted wood of the porch and stared out into the night.

Val rubbed his face with his hands and tried to think. God, he wanted to believe Max. He wanted to think his soul still existed out there somewhere but it got harder to make those choices when he had to fight for them so hard, with every non-breath he took. "Thank you," he said quietly, not looking at Max. "It helps to know someone else believes that."

He turned to look at his friend.  _You are my atonement, Max_.  It wasn't something he would say, could ever say to his friend. He wouldn't add that burden to Max's shoulders no matter how strong those shoulders were anymore than he could lay his change on his father's shoulders. But Val was jealous in a way he could barely define to himself; jealous of _Max_ , of all people. That would make his friend laugh.

"I’ll keep trying, Max.  But it’s hard to remember that what I am when I feed isn’t all of what I am anymore.  Not to drown in sentiment here but it helps that I can still love someone.  I can love Tevis and not be ashamed of it. I can love my family...I ..."  _Don't stall at the gate here, Everett_.  "I would be really glad...proud if you were part of that family...any way you can be or want to be...and I'm not talking about just Tree.”  He rubbed his face again if only to get away from the assessing, curious look in Max’s green eyes.  “You don't have to join the church to use the process of atonement. You just have to sincerely try.”  Val steeled himself to meet Max’s eyes again.  “I can't tell them what I am, Max. And there is no atonement for the soulless.” 

Max grabbed his arm so fast that Val was surprised.  He instinctively tried to pull away but Max held tight.  “What was that you said to me once?” Max asked.  He pulled Val so close their noses were almost touching and his breath was warm against Val’s face.  “If I hadn’t heard you speak half-intelligently at least once in our friendship?  Don't try and pull a fast one on me, Everett. You ain't no damn demon.  You're my friend.  You have a soul.  I’ve fuckin’ _seen_ it."

Max's vehemence startled Val and he backed off, shutting down his fear. "All right. I'm just a guy with an unusual lifestyle." He held up his free hand before Max could protest. "Let's just take on one world shattering event at a time here. What do you want, Max? Tell me that much and let me see if I can help you get there.  Then we'll worry about me."

Max let go of Val’s arm and sat back.  Val was so insistent about Max having choices.  Hadn’t he been listening to Max tell him how this supposed crossroads was total fiction?  Max chewed his lip as he thought. The thought of going back to New Orleans made him tired.  He hated what he did and really didn’t even know why he kept getting up each day to start all over again.  Maybe he was just stubborn.  Maybe, like Val, he was already dead and just didn’t know it.

He rubbed his hands against the porch floor again and looked out over the neighborhood.  The night air was heavy with the scent of blooming flowers and the buzz of cicadas.  He glanced back at the screen door to the house.  The things he wanted were in there and all around him.  "Using my powers for good instead of evil, huh?" he said. Max’s gaze skittered back and forth from Val to the view out into the yard as he waited for Val’s answer. The choice was there and it was pressing on him like a weight.

Val took a deep breath for clarity, wondering if it was prescience that had made Max choose those words.  _Closer than you know, bud_. 

He also needed a moment to gather what he did know about Andrew and his friends into something coherent that wouldn't make him sound like a nutcase.  The substance of what he needed to tell Max was, at best, the stuff about which fantasy novels were written. But Val had had seen and heard things during his brief stay with Andy after getting out of the hospital that made him believe the man was legit.  When asked, Andrew had explained and waited to see if Val believed him.

"This is your choice, sugar. You can take the bad stuff or you can fight for the good stuff. There are folks who can help you if you’re willing to be helped, get you out of one Family and into another that doesn't necessarily leave broken lives in their wake." Andrew had promised, Val reminded himself.  He’d told Val during their phone call that they would do what they could as long as Max was sincere.

"How?" Max asked. 

One word but it meant Max was testing the waters and Val tried hard not to show his relief.  "You have to prove to them that you are serious about getting out," he said softly and earnestly. "If you fuck with them, they will know. If they think they can help, they will.”  Val quashed the doubt that threatened to spring up.  He'd make it work. He'd bargain whatever Andrew or Jan needed to make this happen.

"The guy we are going to see is a friend. Andrew McAran. He was the guy I mentioned to you way back when we first ran into each other.  He works for this group of people who..." This was nearly impossible to explain. "I don't think I can explain it as well as Andy.  From what he’s told me, though, they can and have gotten people out of the kind of stuff you’re in.  It isn’t even like a truce but more like his group scares them shitless – and I don’t think he’s lying,” Val quickly added to Max’s incredulous expression and upraised eyebrows.  “Anyway, Andy or the people he works with can make you what he calls an ‘untouchable’. It’s like the word goes out that you’re off limits and the people you worked for will respect it. And anyone you are connected with -- like family," Val said, playing his trump card.

Max listened to Val talk about this Andrew McAran and his “organization”. It had started off sounding like he would be trading in one Family for another.  As Val had continued, his explanation took on overtones of white knights, fantasy and something else Max couldn't put his finger on.

When Val paused, Max took a breath to tell his friend that, really, he didn’t believe in fairy tales but he couldn’t make the words come out because, in an odd sense, he did – or at least he was starting to.  Val was being utterly sincere.  Whatever these guys had told him, Val had bought it and Max knew the vampire was not easily played.  He also knew that if he said what he really wanted, Batman and Robin were going to go their separate ways and that hurt like hell.  In the months since they’d met, Max had grown to rely on Val in ways he hadn’t ever really done with anyone else.  Val was a part of him; hooks sunk deep.

At the same time, however, Max knew that the Everetts and Tree had already set some hooks in him as well.  They had welcomed him into their world, offered him friendship and potentially something more.  “I want…” he tried.  The words felt odd in his mouth.  They weren’t normally part of his vocabulary. 

Val couldn’t let this chance slip away.  "Will you at least talk to him?" he pressed.

"Yeah," Max agreed after several moments of silence. "I'll at least talk to the man." Reaching out, he grasped Val's hand.  It was a move uncharacteristic of the hawker and Val looked down to make sure that it was real. "You're my friend and I trust you with my life. You say this guy's clean?  I believe you."

Val returned the grip tightly, almost enough to hurt. "I wouldn't steer you wrong, Max. Not about this."  _This is too important to me._

Max made himself not pull away.  “I don’t know…”  His voice trailed off.  _I don’t know what to do without half of me._ "You…we’re kinda…”  He was so messing this up.  Yvette had called him emotionally stunted more than once and Max was forced to admit she might be right.  He tried again.  “We’re kinda...we’re _us,_ ” he finally said in low tones like it was a secret.  “Maybe I'll be part of your family as far as it goes on paper some day. Until then, don't 'spose I could just consider you, like, a brother or something?"

The words were said so fast that it took Val a moment to parse them.  When he did, his response was immediate and Max should have expected it since the Everetts were a physical bunch. Val pulled on his hand, jerking him forward, and his arms came around Max's back in a quick, fierce hug. Then he pushed back, alert to the fact that Max wasn't used to this.  Before he let him go, though, Val caught Max’s face in his hands and met his eyes for one brief second before kissing his forehead the same way he had kissed Tree or his father.  "It's a deal, Max." he said thickly and released him.

Max ducked his head and stared at his knees.  He wanted to ask Val why he didn’t take what this Andy guy was offering but guessed he might already have his answer.  "So, when do I meet this guy?"

"No time like the present, bro," Val said. "Let me make a phone call and we'll go." He headed inside, not sure he wanted to look any longer at the hopeful expression on Max's face. It was a good hurt but it still hurt too much.  "Yo, Max,” he said, pausing at the top of the steps.  He grinned.  “Just think of it this way.  If you are my brother, you don't have to worry anymore about me lusting after your gorgeous bod.  It’s too much like incest."

He disappeared inside and Max was left shaking his head.  He smiled until the realization that he might not be in New Orleans to hear those comments any longer sobered him. 

Val was out again in less than five minutes with the keys to the truck in his hand. He tossed them to Max and climbed into the passenger seat once Max had unlocked the doors.  "Pull out and to the left, then go down two blocks and right.  I need to stop but I don’t know how long this will take,” Val said apologetically.

Max did as he was asked, killing the engine and letting the truck roll silently to a stop on the curb alongside what looked like a stereotypical dive bar.  Motorcycles were grouped around the entrance and older-model used pickups dotted the parking lot.  Loud country music could be heard any time the door opened.  “Nice place,” he noted. "How's the ambiance?"

“Wait here,” Val said.  He pulled off his jacket and left it in the truck before running across the street and disappearing into the club only to return not more than twenty minutes later, tucking his T-shirt back into his jeans. He smelled vaguely of beer and a couple of other things Max really didn't want to think about and he was quieter.

"You all right?" he asked, pulling back out into the street. He knew Val guarded carefully against hurting anyone but wanted to make sure the vampire wasn't hurt, either.

"Just...out of practice," Val said.  He sounded more subdued than usual. "Just head straight down here to the third light." His directions got them back to Little Five Points where Max had found Tree's pendant. However, instead of heading to the business district, Val directed him along a backstreet that had him turning into a narrow driveway and parking behind a Jeep and an ancient but pristine Volvo. Warm light shone buttery yellow from the windows of the two-story house.  Window boxes full of flowers and rocking chairs on the porch added to the sense of welcome. 

Val led the way up the drive.  When the door opened, Max had to look up.

The man was huge. Max figured he was pretty tall at six feet even but this guy was probably a good three inches taller than him.  He was also broad-shouldered with blond hair worn in a ponytail and a face that would have looked completely wrong without the smile he wore. "Val!" he said and came down to meet them.  He opened his arms wide and enfolded Val in a hug that almost made the vampire disappear.  He let him go and Max looked on in surprise as the guy gave Val a swift kiss on the mouth before looking up to greet Max with the same happy grin, his arm still around Val's shoulders.

"Andrew McAran. You have to be Max." he said and held out his hand.

"By default if nothing else," Max answered, holding out his left hand instead which would make this McAran have to switch hands in order to complete the shake.

Andrew made the exchange, eyes flicking to Max's hidden right hand for a moment but the grip was sure and firm.  As he ushered them in, Max caught the man glancing at him and wondered what must be running through the guy’s mind with the results of Max’s fight with Charlie still so visible on his face.

He saw Val look at him and shrugged a response. He was feeling cautious – especially since it appeared he was the newbie amongst people who knew each other rather well if this McAran’s greeting to Val was any indication.  Max had spent many years making himself largely invisible and now he was going to have to expose himself and ask for help.  His nerves felt slightly brittle as he followed McAran into the house and Max told himself to knock it off; Val was his friend and he wouldn't betray him. Betrayal was for the life he was supposed to be leaving behind, wasn't it? Val wanted him to trust this guy so why couldn't he just do it?

"Sorry?" he asked, realizing McAran had said something and he and Val were both waiting for a response.

Andrew sat down on the arm of the sofa which had the effect of making his height and build less threatening.  Val was standing a little to the side looking fidgety and strained, eyes darting back and forth between Max and Andrew.  His usual calm was looking frayed.

"I asked if you like your current life or are you just looking for a way out because you already pissed somebody off?" Andrew said, blue eyes locking with Max's green ones.  “People who try to get out from under the Mafia are either incredibly brave or running scared.  I won’t even ask where you got that nice collection of bruises you’re currently sporting."

A spurt of anger boiled through Max as he realized Val had shared information with this guy.  The situation was already out of his control in that he couldn’t parcel out what he wanted to say when he wanted to say it and it left Max feeling even more off-kilter, wondering how much more McAran knew about him. 

Old hungers were stirring, dark and strong, whispering that he didn't need this.  He could just find some oblivion and crawl in after it. Oblivion was cheap and easy to find.  Another part of him, however, was warning him this would be the last chance he would have before he took a step that would alter his life permanently in ways that would be even worse.

"Door's open, Max," Andrew said evenly. "No locks, no chains, no pass key needed. Open and shut and it won't slap you on the ass on the way out either if that's what you want."

He inhaled and exhaled slowly. "No," he said. "I came here to talk so let's talk." Max looked around the house. "What are you? A capo or something?"

Andrew laughed.  It sounded like pure amusement.  "No, not even close.  To borrow your lingo, I am a foot soldier. Probably even not too far from you in rank if we had ranks.  I guess you could say I’m the front man for things – including the locals,” he added.  The glance he sent Val was filled with affection but the smile that accompanied it had a note of sadness to it. 

Andy leaned back in the chair.  "Or, talent scout if you like. Val seems to think you have a talent we can use. He's always been pretty good about measuring people but his word or his needs won't cut the mustard. You have to do that on your own. We aren't like the Mafia, Max. We don't own you and you won't owe us anything but what you want to give even if it's nothing. My job in this particular situation is to see where your head is.”  Andrew glanced at the staircase.  “My partner’s job is to see where your heart is.  Adam!” he yelled and there was a muffled reply. "If we feel that what Val is asking is doable and you’re honest about wanting to get out, we will take you to meet the guy that might make it happen. You can walk away anytime."

That last sentence brought a bit of reassurance to Max for a reason he couldn't explain. "I'm here because I want to be. I didn't 'piss anybody off'," he mimicked Andrew's words. "My old boss is...”  _Undead and now is really dead._ “There’s a power switch going on.  Don’t know where it’s going.  Rather not be a part of it.” 

Footsteps on the stairs brought all their attention up. The man descending was about Val's height, maybe a little taller, slim and muscular. His face was all angles and planes with high cheekbones and a prominent nose. He was nearly as fair as Val with short dark hair.

"Max, this is my business partner and friend, Adam Johnston," Andrew said as Adam came in with a cautious smile on his face. Andrew shifted to the side as Adam shook hands with Max then turned to glance at Val, gray eyes widening.

Before Max or Andrew could move or Andrew, Adam was on Val and shoving him back hard against the wall. Val reacted without thinking, shoving Adam back with enough force to slam him into the sofa and then he was after him with no attempt to hid fangs or intent.

Max sprang forward, intent on pulling Adam off Val and getting them both out of there.  Before he could get to Adam, though, he was stopped cold.  He twisted and saw Andrew standing a few feet from him.  The man’s face was set and hard.  Max couldn’t see or feel anyone holding him but the harder he struggled, the more it became apparent that _something_ was holding him away from Adam and Val.  A movement caught his eye and he saw Andrew make a motion with his hand.  Val pulled back with a startled look on his face and then dropped to the ground like a rag doll. 

"Adam?" Andrew asked sharply.

"All right,” the man said shakily.  ‘Your…friend—“

"Is a vampire. Yes, I can see that much," Andrew said.  His face was pale. "What else?"

"Blood. He's fed recently."

Max twisted, still trying to get to Val before either Andrew or Adam did.  Unconscious, Val was at their mercy.   "What the fuck is going on?" he yelled.

"Max," Andrew was in front of him. "He's not hurt. I swear. He'll be fine in a minute.  I just needed to break the…compulsion.  I’m going to let you go now and you can check him yourself." The invisible bonds slipped away and Max pitched forward, nearly falling before he stumbled the few steps between him and Val and crashed onto his knees beside his friend.  Throwing a quick, angry glance at both men, he carefully picked Val up and shifted their positions until Val was resting against his legs.  “Everett?  You all right? Val?" He looked up at both men. "What the hell did you do?"

Andrew looked at Adam.  "You have really got to get a check on that judgment thing you've got going," he said and there was disapproval in his voice.

"I know. I'm sorry." Adam said quietly.  He rubbed his chest where Val had shoved him.

"Don't apologize to me, you ass," Andrew said and squatted down next to Max.

"Fuck off," Max said sharply.  He turned away to try and shield Val’s body with his.  Val thought he could trust these guys?  _Come on, Val,_ he silently pled.  _Wake up or I’ll carry you out of here myself whatever you think these guys can do._

"Misunderstanding, Max," Andrew said softly. "I’m sorry and so is Adam,” he added pointedly with a glance up at his friend.  “It all...just caught us by surprise. And I didn't expect it of Val." He reached out but stopped when Max glared at him.  Instead, Andy pulled his hand back and said, “Come on, Valentine. Threat is past.”  As they watched, Val stirred and then moved, snapping back to wakefulness.

Adam moved closer to the trio on the floor and Max."Val, I’m sorry. I overreacted but it’s all over you.”  He stopped, looking at the vampire for a long minute, and then his face colored."Fuck," he murmured. "Him.  Not you." Adam said.

Val looked at Adam in surprise and some shock before looking down again. "Yeah," Val muttered and pushed up to a sitting position out of Max’s arms.  He pulled his knees in to his chest and hooked his arms around them, not looking at any of three men ringed around him.

"Could somebody _please_ clue me in?" Max asked. He seemed to have joined a conversation already in progress. “Or I’m taking him and we’re going.”

"The short version," Andy said when Val looked at Max in alarm, “is my asshole partner who sees a whole lot of things he wishes he didn't.  He could see the blood signature on Val's aura." He glanced at Adam who had settled on the arm of the sofa, arms crossed over his chest. Adam nodded.  Max thought he looked slightly embarrassed.  "He reacted to what Val was feeling which was...." Andy glanced down at Val.

"Hungry," Val admitted reluctantly and looked at each of them in turn. "You...you felt like a smorgasbord all by yourself,” he said to Andrew.  "I don't know why."

"Burning like a beacon in the blackest night," Adam said. "Andrew has that effect on people since he can't seem to tone it down for more than two seconds at a time. I _did_ overreact but I think you were on the verge of trying to rip his throat out, yes?”

Val nodded miserably.

Adam drew back and said, “Andy, why don’t you take him upstairs.  I think this is yours to help.”  When Max put a hand on Val’s arm, Adam continued.  “I’ll talk to Max if I can convince him not to bolt after what’s been a rather…abrupt introduction.” 

Max stood and pulled Val up with him.  "I'm okay,” Val protested but his hand was holding on to Max’s shoulder with a pressure Max felt was sure to reveal a hand-shaped bruise later. 

Adam cut his eyes to Max before he spoke.  "Val, you need some relief and Andy is much better at that than I am.  Besides, I think you might trust him more than me right now.”  When Val looked like he was going to protest again.  Adam said, “You can't hurt him. He won't let you."

Andrew nodded. "Come on, sweets," he said.  Gently disengaging Val’s hand from Max’s shoulder, he turned the vampire and began guiding him up the stairs.

"We have a deal, Max," Val reminded him before he disappeared. "Just listen. That's all you have to do."

Max wavered.  He understood Val wanted him here, wanted him to talk to these two guys and hear their offer.  Nevertheless, the part of him that wanted to grab Val and get the hell out of this house was just as strong as the part that wanted to obey Val’s request.  He looked up the stairs a moment longer and then back at Adam.  The British man regarded him calmly, gray eyes not giving anything away.

“Well,” Adam said.  “Didn’t you and I just get off to a great start?  I’d apologize but I’m pretty sure it won’t mean much to you at this point.”  He blew out a breath.  “Why don’t you have a drink with me and let’s see if I can start on the choice Val asked us to offer you.  I’ll talk and you can ask questions if you need to.”

He led the way to the kitchen.  It was a big open space with a small breakfast table. "You want a coffee, a beer, or something stronger?"

"Nothing," Max said roughly. He pulled out a chair, the wood squeaking harshly against the floor and sat.  He stretched out his legs and looked at Adam. "Talk. Fast."

Adam nodded and sat down opposite him without getting anything to drink for himself, either.  "It’s our organization – the Pillars – that Val is asking to help you so let me give you the short version of the philosophy behind them.  You ever had much philosophy and religion, Max?"

Max snorted. "Do I look like I've got a degree in my back pocket?" He saw Adam’s mouth thin slightly at his response.  _You told Val you'd listen, so shut up and do it._ "Go ahead," he muttered.

"Well, then. Some of this is going to sound odd but possibly not so odd considering you already know about vampires.  You yourself work for…”  He paused and glanced speculatively at Max.  “Some arm of the Mafia.  So, those being givens, vampires and organized crime operate in the realm we call Chaos. On the other half of the spectrum is the realm called Order. It’s where most governments operate from, believe it or not, and from where science and mathematics and the people who use and understand them also operate.  With me so far?”

Max wasn’t sure but nodded in order to keep Adam talking.

“Okay.  Neither of them are good or bad in or of themselves. They simply are and both of them are necessary for our reality to exist. Now Chaos and Order can't really exist in the same plane at the same time or they would cancel each other out. To keep that from happening, there is a buffer in between and in theory anyway, there are twelve Pillars that hold the gap open between those realities.”

Max shifted in his chair.  What the fuck had Val gotten him into?  If there was any toga-wearing or weird praying to the moon rituals while dancing naked, he was _out_ of here.  “Like…real-life stuff?”

“In a way,” Adam agreed.  “While they’re more like disciplines that maintain the balance between Chaos and Order than real pillars, they are reflected in everything we do and are. They have physical manifestations in specific human beings who _are_ called Pillars. Their job is to monitor the balance and adjust as necessary.”  He clasped his hands and leaned forward on the table.  “That's what we do.  Our job is to keep the balance because too much Order or Chaos and the whole thing comes crashing down."

“Really.”  _Looney Tunes.  Th-th-th-th-that’s all, folks._ “You realize what horseshit this sounds like, don’t you?” 

“Very much so,” Adam agreed.  “And I can’t convince you in twenty-five words or less that it’s real.  Part of it is going to take some faith on your part, Max, and unless I miss my guess?  Faith is something that has been in short supply for you for years.  But,” Adam leaned back in his seat, “you came here tonight based on nothing other than Val’s word so I’m guessing you’re not completely bankrupt when it comes to that particular quality.  Just try extending it past Val for now.”

“I’m still here,” Max said.

“That you are,” Adam agreed.

“I don’t get why you guys think I’d be particularly good at this…” Max waved a hand around.  “…thing you do.”

“We need people,” Adam said simply.  “We need people who have certain talents and skillsor sometimes just a strong back. We all have regular lives, Max. We don’t live in a commune nor do we pray to Peter Pan while sprinkling fairy dust.  We have families and jobs and bills to pay. But when the balance shifts, we are…soldiers. My wife calls us the ‘psychic samurai’." He smiled and the grin eased his features, making Max realize that Adam wasn't as old as he had first thought.  He was maybe ten years from Max’s age.

Max looked back over his shoulder to the living room and then back at Adam. "What just happened in there?"

Adam chewed on his lower lip for a second and leaned forward again, hands flat on the table.  "This is where you start exercising faith:  I have a gift. I have several but my primary gift is a thing called Sight, as in clairvoyance. I see things, know things, that other people don't. Every living thing gives off certain aura of their own.  Val…doesn’t.  He gives off something else.  When I look at Val, I don’t see him.  I see what his Hunger is and part of it is violent, malevolent, no matter how much he’s told you he tries to control it.”

Max almost protested that Val had never been that way the time he’d fed on Max but then he remembered the frat kid in the alley and subsided. 

“Andrew is my best friend and when I looked at Val, I saw that Hunger reaching for Andrew.  It's not Val's fault,” Adam assured him.  “Andrew’s abilities make him very…bright.  People are drawn to him and he can be generous to a fault sometimes. I reacted to the potential threat.”

“By doing what?” Max scoffed.  “Psychic samurai-ing him into the wall?”

“His Hunger wasn’t under control,” Adam said brusquely.  “I thought he’d killed someone before you two got here and it looked like he was going to go after Andrew!  But I’m guessing it was just a violent feed; either way, he wasn’t in control and his feeding has…effects that need to be taken care of.  I’m not inclined that way but Andy can be.  When they come back downstairs, I’ll offer to help Val if he wants it.  It’s what I’m supposed to do as a card-carrying member of the psychic battalions anyway."

Max remembered his promise to listen and bit his tongue rather than say what was on his mind regarding the idea of psychic battalions.  “Okay, say I buy the weirdness so far.  How'd this thing get set up? Who decided on all these Pillars and Order and Chaos?"

"I doubt you want the history lesson right now but know that the Pillars have existed for as far back as any written or oral records exist. Who decides?” Adam shrugged.  “That’s as much accident as planning. There can only be twelve Pillars, though, and each one is embodied in a man or woman who holds incredible power.  The current Pillar in this part of the world is Evan Richards. He was a big deal in the spiritualist movement in the 20's and 30's and he is a total asshole. " Adam smiled faintly. " _I_ think so anyway if only because he and I don’t see eye to eye on a lot of things – but I do respect him.  I don’t serve because I have to.  I can walk away any time and so can you if you decide to join up.”

“I think I’d like that beer now,” Max said.  His head was starting to spin.

Adam’s smile grew in amused recognition and he got up, went to the fridge and pulled out two beers.  Returning, he handed one cold bottle to Max and opened the other one, waiting until Max took a healthy swallow.  “Questions?” he asked.

“What did you guys do?” Max asked.  “Back there.”  He gestured vaguely over his shoulder with the hand holding the bottle.  “You went after Val and I went after you – but then I couldn’t move.  Nobody was holding me back and then it just…stopped.”  He took another swig from the bottle.

“That’s Andrew,” Adam said.  “I told you about talents?  One of his has a fancy one: telekinesis.  What it means is he has the power to stop or move things by using his mind.”  He laughed at the look on Max’s face.  “Faith, Max.  It happened, right?”

These people were either seriously nutbar, Val was playing the world’s biggest practical joke or…they were telling the truth.  Yeah, the weird shit in the living room had happened and Max had no other way to explain it other than Adam’s account right now.  He didn’t think Val would do him like this, either.  While the vampire had a sense of humor that sometimes found its expression in gently embarrassing Max, it was more something that they did between them and Max couldn’t credit Val suddenly involving total strangers.  And, well, crazy was crazy but nobody _seemed_ crazy so far.  Max was well aware that was a weak rationalization but it was the only one he had to go on for the moment.

"What would you expect from me?" he asked. "You're tellin' me you aren't capos but that you're foot soldiers. Foot soldiers for who?"

"Take a deep breath, Max.  This one is going to hurt," Adam said with a dry chuckle and little humor. "The whole fucking planet.”  He nodded when Max’s beer bottle thumped on to the table.  “But we aren't soldiers anyone sees or knows about. The Pillars have a mission and that’s to make sure mankind survives. We’re not trying to say how that survival will look but just make sure it happens.  We believe there is an event that is supposed to occur called the Advent.  When that happens, the gifts Andrew and I and others have will belong to every man, woman and child on this planet if mankind survives.  We believe that, otherwise, mankind will go the way of the dinosaur."

“Seems kind of…big,” Max said numbly.  Val was a vampire.  He had strength and speed.  Adam could apparently see the future.  This Andy guy could move shit with his _mind_.  What was a broken-down strip club bouncer going to contribute to saving the human race?

He'd let that one go by for a minute. "Why did Val bring me here? And why did you guys agree to see me?" Max found himself wanting to trust these guys but he needed something to hold onto besides psychic samurai.  The clock over the stove continued to tick off the minutes while he waited for Adam to respond.

"Val has his reasons.”  Adam’s tone softened.  “Chief among them is he loves you, Max.  There isn’t any other way to say it.  We agreed to see you because Val asked. No more than that. We will see anyone that asks. You don't have to have a Gift or a Talent on the psychic plane to be one of those people. I don't know if you do. I'm not looking nor am I reading you except what you are giving off voluntarily."

Adam set his empty beer bottle down. "And now that I have convinced you that I am a total crackpot with delusions of godhood, it’s my turn to ask a question. I know you came here looking for help or Val did and dragged you along for the ride. If we can help you, we will. And Val as well.”  He looked down for a moment and then squarely at Max.  “That one, though, will have to go to Jan or Evan. I can't help him and all Andy can do is contain him. So, what do you want?  Why do you need to get out of this life you have chosen for yourself?"

“See how the other half lives?” Max said with a weak smile that disappeared seconds later.  He turned the bottle around and around, dragging it through the condensation that was puddling on the table surface. 

“I’m tired,” he said finally.  “I’m tired of what I do and who I am.  Val told me once he was too stupid to know he was already dead and I feel the same way.  I didn’t even want to come to Atlanta.  Figured…” he sighed.  “Don’t know what I figured.  Too different.  Too June Cleaver.  Too… _nice_.”

“Nice been in short supply, too?” Adam asked.

Max shrugged.  “You apparently know where I work and who I work for.  What do you think?”

“Fair enough,” Adam murmured.  “So what happened to change that?”

Max took a sip of his beer.  “We got here and Val’s family…yeah, they’re nice but they’re also pretty real.  None of ‘em are really what I thought they’d be.  And the more I looked…”  He trailed off for a moment before clearing his throat and trying to articulate something he was only barely beginning to understand himself.  “The more I looked, the more I wanted to be part of it.  It’s just…I don’t know…you ever have, like, voices in your head? I can't explain it and I probably sound like an idiot anyway, but I just have this feeling that this is where I’m supposed to be, where I want to be.  Val said you guys could help.  I trust him.  Here I am.”

"I have voices in my head like you wouldn't believe, Max," Adam said quietly. "But we can help you take steps towards the kind of life you want.  We can…mark you, put a big, invisible neon sign on you that lets anyone who might try to drag you back into your old life know that trying to get to you or your loved ones is a very bad idea.  But the rest of it is up to you.”

“What’s that mean?  I thought McAran said I don’t even have to do anything?”

“There is always temptation, Max,” Adam replied.  “Whether it’s easy money or drugs or whatever your personal poisons have been, if you cross back over, head back to that life of your own accord, the mark is gone.  You don’t have to do anything but you do have to make a choice – now and when temptation comes calling.  What happened in the living room?  That’s what those who try to harm you get.  While they’re trying to figure out where the hell your armor came from, those ‘psychic samurai’ are on the way. By the time the people who are messing with you are returned to their bosses, their lives aren't worth shit to anyone."

Max knew enough about himself to acknowledge that even though he’d been clean for a while, the taste was still there. Sometimes it lay dormant for a long time but, every now and then, it roared back into existence and it took all his effort to beat it back to the point where he could lock it up and throw away the key again.  "So if I did..." he started.

"If you choose to go back to that life, we won't stop you, Max. We can't stop you,” Adam replied.  “Everything we do is about free will.  I was born with the gifts I have but I’m not here because I’m forced to be.  I choose to be.   If we make you an untouchable you owe us nothing. You never have to see us again or talk to us. There is no obligation at all."

“Okay.”  Max still wasn’t sure there wasn’t some kind of price tag they weren’t telling him about but it seemed any question in that area was being responded to with the same ideas about choice and free will.  He’d let it drop for now.  “What’s next?”

"Once Val’s all right, we can go see Jan,” Adam told him. 

"Where is Val?" Max asked.

Adam tilted his head back and closed his eyes, holding the pose a few moments before smiling faintly.  "Give them a few more minutes," he said with a chuckle then opened his eyes and rubbed at them before glancing at Max. "They'll be down presently.  About the drugs, Max," he added and picked up his bottle to slip it into the recycling bin. "If you go back to using, it won't violate the mark. Our bargains have to do with individuals. You want to hurt yourself, fuck yourself up by being an addict, even a weekend addict, that's your choice. How the people you care about and who care about you deal with it is not up to us. But if you sell it, if you run it and cause willful harm – meaning you know that it is going to end up eventually in someone else's hands or body just so you could make a buck – that’s when the big canceled stamp appears. You can help, you can sit by and do nothing but you cannot harm.  If you do, it costs – and not from us.  The universe has its own series of checks and balances."

He pushed off from the counter at the sound of footsteps on the stairs and Max followed in time to see Andrew descending towards them. 

"Val's in the shower," Andrew said with a smile and rubbed his neck as he entered the room. There were two tiny, visible welts on his neck.  He went past them and reached into the refrigerator to pull out a bottle of Gatorade.  He drank about half in one swallow, then wiped his mouth and began sipping at the drink while leaning against the closed refrigerator door.  He looked over at Max.  "Well, at least you didn't send him screaming for the hills or get yourself decked.”

Andrew switched his attention to Adam.  "You need to talk to Val."

"I plan to," Adam said and reached into a box by the front door to pull out a pair of sneakers.

"And then you get to talk to me," Andrew said sharply and Adam colored at the tone. "You knew he was a vampire before tonight, didn't you?" he accused.

"Yes," Adam said, tying his shoes.

"And you didn't say anything."

"No." Adam finished and looked up. "What was I supposed to say, Andy? There wasn't anything we could do for him then and I don’t know that there is now. This isn't like hunting for a cure for AIDS or Ebola. You take away the part that makes him a vampire and you get to bury him.”  His tone had grown harsher as he spoke and it was with a visible effort that he calmed himself down.  It’s that simple. When I saw him three years ago, he was new.  A couple of deaths but…”  He sighed.  "He still is but it's getting harder.  Somebody has him chained down and those chains are draining him.  You know the drill, Andy, and now so does Max. He has to ask. He has to ask to be cut loose and even then-"

"But he won't," Max protested. "Tevis means the world to him and he's tied up with Madeleine. It's not fair to him."

"No, it’s not fair, Max," Andrew said. "Not any of it.  I take it his family doesn't know?"

At that, Max let out a harsh laugh. "That'd be a safe bet. The current cover story is he has ulcers and a lot of personal business during the day."

"How long are you here for?" Adam asked as he picked up the phone sitting on the kitchen counter.

"Just until Monday."

"But you could stay longer," Val said coming down the stairs. There was color in the otherwise pale skin Max hadn't seen before. His hair was damp and he was wearing different clothes, a pair of denims and a gray flannel shirt.

"Those are my best jeans," Adam observed archly.

"What can I say?" Val said with a laugh. "I was born with good taste." He moved around, coming to stand between Max and Andrew, shoving his hands in his back pockets. He glanced at Andrew who shrugged.

"It's a gift." The big man smirked and Val actually blushed a little.

Max managed to keep from rolling his eyes at the vampire. From what was being bandied about, he had a pretty fair idea of what might have gone on upstairs and Andrew's next comment seemed to confirm it.

Andrew reached out to touch the dark hair gently, more like a brother or a father. "You tell your Tevis he's a lucky man, sugar."

"I will," Val said and looked at Max. "So what's the plan?" Andrew and Adam also looked at Max.

Max dug his hands deeper into his pockets. "He's calling for someone I'm supposed to talk to next." It had been a heady evening and he still wasn't entirely convinced that this wasn't some really bizarre dream he was having. This was moving fast...very fast. "I'm supposed to be back at work Tuesday," he said stupidly, latching onto one of Val's last statements.

"Max," Adam said gently. "If we do this?  It's immediate. That doesn't mean you can't go back to New Orleans but it does mean that the sign goes on now. Do you understand? We’re not holding a gun to your head and there is no time limit before the offer runs out.  If Jan says yes, that's it. Are you sure about this?"

"No...I mean, yes. I mean…" This was making Max’s head hurt. He brought his hands up and ran them through his hair. "I just...I want this. I don't know what I'm supposed to do or say to convince you. I understand what you're telling me," he said, turning to directly face Adam. "I'm not exactly saying I believe it all but I can certainly keep an open mind about it. It's just..."  _the complete uprooting of my life_ , Max finished to himself.

Suddenly Val was behind him and his hands were on Max’s shoulders.  "Take a breath, Max. Do we have to do this right this second, Adam?" he asked "I mean, can Max have a few minutes?"

Adam nodded. "Yes.  I'll call Jan and give him a heads up. It's a fifteen minute drive to MATADA and they keep late hours. Is that what you want, Max?" He asked and the Brit’s baritone was soothing and calm, very different from the reactionary man who had attacked Val. "If you have questions we’ll answer them or we can just go. Sometimes thinking too hard can get you into trouble," he finished and glanced at Andrew who just rolled his eyes as if sharing a private joke.

"Yeah…yeah.  Just give me a few minutes, will you?" Max asked. "Call the guy, though, and tell him we're coming."

"It's not a death sentence and it's not a one way ticket, Max," Andrew told him. "It’s a choice but every choice opens up new ones. I understand that you have ties to New Orleans.”  He quickly glanced at Val.  “And if need be, you can go back but temptations will be stronger there.  If you choose to stay here, we’ll help you find a job and a place to stay.  You won’t be out on the streets.” 

"Is there a place where Val and I can just talk for a second?" Max asked. Both Andrew and Adam looked at him searchingly and then Andrew nodded, gesturing for them to go into the room they had just vacated. Once there, Max paced in a circle, feeling jittery, nervous.  “It’s not like,” he started as he finally came to a stop in front of Val.  “I don’t think you’re screwing me over, Robin,” he said, rubbing his right hand where his fifth finger should have been. "It's just...everything's changing so fast that I don't know what to say or do."

“Don’t do what you think you should,” Val said.  “Do what you _want_ to do.  You matter.  What you want matters.”

_Then why does it hurt so bad to ask?_ Max blew out a breath.  He tried to take one in but it felt like his lungs were blocked.  His hands were shaking and he crossed his arms over his chest, stuffing his hands into his armpits and made himself look at Val.  “I can't go back to New Orleans with you."

Val met his gaze for a long moment. "I get it," he said softly.

"It feels like if I do, then all of this stuff that's right here, right now, in my grasp...I'll lose it."  Val’s calm, accepting gaze reminded Max of the location of each and every hook he’d let Val place in him.  “If I go back, I’ll know I’m dead and that I never really took my chance to live.  I’m…I’m sorry,” he apologized, feeling miserable.  “I don’t want to be Yoko.”

The corners of Val’s mouth turned up. "It's okay, Max, I swear to God, I was kinda hoping you would stay here. I feel better going back knowing that." He reached out and gripped Max's shoulder tightly.

"I don't want to lose you and I feel like I'm going to." There. He'd managed to say it.   He could feel his eyes starting to sting. "You stuck by me and...and held me over a building when I pissed you off."  _Don't make it a joke, Griffin. Just say the damned words._

"Max, you aren't losing anything,” Val promised.  “You’re here and I’m there but it’s only a couple hours by plane.  Don’t sweat it.” he said with a grin, eyes bright.

Max took a breath, knowing it was now or never. "I'm trying to tell you I love you, you idiot."

Val's smile faded for a moment.  He parted his lips to speak and nothing came out. His hand moved instead, lightly touching Max’s face as his smile became soft and intimate.  "Fuck you, you asshole.  You make me cry and I swear I will come visit you on your wedding night," Val said softly, then cupped his hand around the back of Max's neck and pulled until their foreheads touched.

"I love you too, Max,” Val said.  A tremor in his voice colored his words and he had to clear his throat to continue.  “I would do anything for you and I know you would do the same. So I'm telling you now:  there is no debt between us. None. I can't be here for my family, be their son.  You aren’t my replacement but you can be someone they can love like one of their own.  I'm not trying to guilt you into anything. Just...keep an eye on them for me for as long as you can for as long as you can stand it, okay?”  His voice dropped to a near-whisper. "Robin never got any older, Batman.,"

Max couldn’t speak for a long moment.  “I’ll do my best.  Just…promise me you won’t disappear on me, that you’ll come back when you can for as long as _you_ can.  I’ll…”  Now it was Max’s turn to clear his throat.  “I’ll keep your secret.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an independent work based on the concept of the Kindred from the White Wolf World of Darkness Role-Playing Game and Novels. The concept of Immortality and the Game as presented here are the property of Gregory Widen and Panzer/Davis Productions, as are the characters of Duncan MacLeod and Methos (among others.) The Lattice characters and concepts appear here by permission of V. Watts and M. Snowden. All other characters and concepts are the property and creation of thewildmole and V. Watts.
> 
> Maygra and I originally began this saga way back in the dark reaches of the 1990's. We might have called this When Worlds Collide because it is a collision of sorts. Take a World of Darkness RPG, a healthy dose of the original universe set out in Lattice (by Snowden and Watts) and toss in two young men trying to make sense of the world around them, the balances between Chaos and Order, and the need to hold onto their own souls and you have Twin Sons and Different Brothers. Max and Val met by accident -- not unlike their creators. Maygra and I have enjoyed a long friendship apart from this collaboration but it would have never originally happened without this story. Having some time on my hands, I (thewildmole) decided to edit the original work and repost it (something Maygra is fine with). ...
> 
> We warn you now that the language is frequently harsh and the situations harsher. (Rated NC17 for violence, language and sexual situations.) The NPC Characters of Tevis, Madeleine, Crispin and assorted other vampires and inhabitants of New Orleans, belong to original World of Darkness RPG Game Mistress and Goddess Meg Wittenmyer (I think we have her permission.)
> 
> Warning: The following story may be rated G, PG, R, NC17 or even X. It may contain graphic depictions of sex between men or between men and women. I can pretty much guarantee there won't be any sex between people and animals...but nothing is ever 100%. Vampires, Immortals, Jedi and other anomolies are fair game though. There may be violence, graphic violence, nudity, bad language or adult themes. There may be non-consensual sex, rape, partner rape, hurt/comfort, and mental anguish. There may be torture, sadism, masochism, bondage, or bad verb conjugations. There may be death, there may be a major character death. The ending may be happy or it may be really depressing. There may be much affection, cuddling and kissing. There may be an uneasy resolution. Over-the-topness is not guaranteed but is highly probable. There may even be a plot. Or, there may be none of those things. You have been warned.This material may not be copied or distributed without permission--we intend no copyright infringement, make no profit and promise to share. Welcome to the darkside of the soap opera. Comments may be be sent to thewildmole@gmail.com and maygra@bellsouth.net


	10. Becoming the Other Half

When they re-entered the kitchen, Adam and Andrew were sitting at the kitchen table, a half-empty bottle of Gatorade by Andy’s elbow.  Rising, Adam looked at Max. "Jan is expecting us any time. I need to warn you, Max. He's going to ask you some very tough questions and he'll expect honest answers.”  Max nodded.

Adam’s gaze switched to the vampire.  “Val, can I talk to you a minute?" he asked and waited while Val moved slowly away from Max and followed Adam out the back door onto the porch.

Max wanted to follow. He could hear nothing but he could see Adam talking and watched Val, saw the vampire duck his head and nod. When Adam said something else, Val’s response was to rub his face and shake his head.  He looked stricken.  As Max kept watching, Adam reached out and laid a hand on Val’s shoulder while he continued to speak.  Val went rigid for a long moment then glanced back into the house.  When he saw Max, he dropped his head and turned his back to the window.  Adam didn't move for a long moment, then nodded, but Max couldn’t see if it was in response to something Val said or if it was to indicate the end of the conversation.  What did surprise him was the very clear evidence of tears on Adam's face that the British man wiped away as he re-entered the house.  "Whenever you are ready, Valentine," he said over his shoulder. "Take your car, Andy?"

"Sure," Andrew said and rose to get his keys.

"Don't ask, Max," Adam said when Max opened his mouth. "Not about this. When Val wants to tell you, he will."

"You said you would answer any questions," Max reminded him.

Adam gave him a stern look. "Yes.  About who we are and what we do, about myself, Andrew, anyone attached to the Pillars. What I discussed with Val has nothing to do with any of it."

"Drop it, Max," Val asked quietly as he came inside and shut the door. What little color he'd gained from his feeding had faded. "Please?"

Max reluctantly did so but, as Val passed, he slipped his arm around the vampire's shoulders and together they followed Adam outside to where Andrew already had the Volvo running.It was a quick drive but Max paid little attention to any of it and no one seemed inclined to start conversation.

Andrew finally pulled into a large parking lot that flanked a three-story building that looked like it had been erected in the thirties. The parking lot was well lit but nearly empty. Beyond it, separated by a large grassy stretch were old mill houses, almost identical and also circa 1930, now converted for modern use.

Adam and Andrew led the way to a side door where the sign overhead read "Metro Atlanta Theatre and Dance Association Employee Entrance." Andrew unlocked the door but Val hesitated while everyone else stepped over the threshold.

"Come on, Val," Max coaxed but the vampire had stopped dead in his tracks and was obviously not going any farther, no amount of coaxing or physical force from Max notwithstanding. Bewildered, Max looked at the other two men. "What's the deal?"

"It's warded,” Adam explained. 

Max started to question Adam’s sanity but then remembered what had happened at the house.  “Okay,” he said slowly.  “So…what?  Do we have to go on a quest for Val to be able to come in?”

That got a flash of a smile from the older man.  “No, think…force field.”  He glanced at Andy.  "One of yours?"

Andrew shook his head. "Nope, I'll let Jan know," he said and disappeared up a flight of stairs.

They waited in silence for a few minutes and then Val seemed to collect himself, his tense stance easing into something more of the natural grace Max was familiar with. "It's gone," he said and followed them inside.

"Jan has claustrophobia," Adam said and opened the door.

It was a loft style apartment with one wall entirely made of windows. It was plain and functional with little decoration beyond a few geometric prints on the walls.  One wall held hand-built shelves of rough wood, not far removed from the brick and board variety, with an array of stereo and recording equipment in various stages of use and disrepair. The overwhelming factor of the apartment was its sense of space with vaulted ceilings that soared upwards to twenty feet.  Support struts draped with airplane silk and only partial walls separated the living area from the kitchen, bedroom and bath. Handmade furniture dotted the room.

Max located Andrew first and then saw the man next to him.  He was nearly as tall as Andrew but much thinner, almost too skinny for his height.  Other than that, he appeared unremarkable with tousled, mousy brown hair and a plain, amiable face.  Max thought the guy didn’t really look like he amounted to much until he drew close enough to see his eyes.

Max's first impression was that they were brown and as unremarkable as the rest of the man.  Then those eyes swung to look at Max and an odd shiver ran up Max’s back.  He wondered if this was how an animal on the ground felt when they noticed a predator soaring above them.  But when his gaze shifted to Val, Max suddenly saw just a tall, awkward-looking guy once more.

He became aware of one more person in the room, a stocky, muscular man with a square face and blue eyes sitting in a low armchair.  He smiled at Max and introduced himself.  “Pete Oakes.” 

"Val, Max, this is Jan Therin," Adam introduced the tall man. Jan made no move to shake hands with either of them but smiled and the smile changed him again, taking away the homely face and making him almost handsome in a long-faced way. "Jan, this is Max Griffin and Valentine Everett."

"I know of Val. Nice to meet you finally," Jan said and the deep, rumbling bass of his voice did not match his body at all.  He pointed to Pete.  “Pete works for us as well.”

"Nice to meet you both.”  Pete’s voice had a flat, Midwestern twang to it.  He rose and shook Max’s and Val’s hands.  His grip was brief and firm.

"Sit down, please," Jan said and gestured, Andrew took the only other chair and Adam perched on the arm, leaving Val and Max the sofa while Pete sat back down in his chair. Jan sat down on the coffee table directly in front of Max and Val, folding his long frame down like an accordion and clasping his hands in front of him.  He was silent for a long moment, gazing first at Max, then Val, and then down at his hands before he looked at both of them and began speaking. 

"Adam and Andrew gave me the rundown of their conversations with both of you. I do this, Max, and I will make a call to Michael Venatti when we are done," Jan said. "He will put the word out to his people and that will be the end of it. Adam says he explained that it only holds as long as you stay out of the active trafficking for the Families."

Max’s could feel his heart rate pick up and he took a closer look at Jan, startled to hear that name cross his lips so easily. Venatti was the boss. His word was law. Max had met the man very briefly once and Venatti had definitely made an impression.  The man was impeccable from the knot of his silk tie to the shine on his expensive shoes. But, when Max looked into his eyes, he had been overwhelmed by a feeling of nothingness - as though the flat eyes of Michael Venatti somehow registered the interior of the man; cold, hard and empty. Venatti had made a small comment that he hoped the son would be more of a credit than the father and Max had nodded numbly before Venatti moved on.

"Why would Venatti do that? Far as he'd be concerned, I might as well be dead. Leaving is betrayal."  _Like the father, like the son_.

"The influence of the Pillars extends into a lot of areas, Max. You need to understand we don’t judge but we don’t always operate on the side of the legal system.  We don’t work against it, either; more like…selective interference.  It wouldn't take much for one of the Adepts - those are the people who maintain the Pillars - to look into Venatti's mind and pluck out where the bodies are and the proof to go with I; him or any other crime syndicate.”

Max swallowed hard.  In the grand scheme of things, he knew one low-level foot soldier like him was not going to change Venatti’s fortunes one way or the other.  When placed against potentially damning information like this Jan guy was talking about, allowing his defection was definitely the easiest solution.  But he was still wondering how they had all this information and how they got it.  “You have people on the inside or something?”

“No.”  Jan shook his head.  “Adam said he mentioned faith to you.  You’re going to have to rely on that now as well.  We _can_ get that information if we want and use it.  But like I said, selective interference.  To use it now would do nothing except add to Chaos.  Upset the balance, if you will.  For Venatti, it is the fact we can use it.  You’re right.  Letting you go is the easier option because you’re not worth nearly as much to him as his freedom to continue doing what he’s doing.”

Max stared.  He hadn’t said that out loud.  He’d only thought it.  He felt Val shift next to him and that was the only thing that truly kept him in his seat.  Val was trying to help him and he’d agreed – even if the help was starting to creep him out.

“Do you want to go on with this?” Jan asked and Max didn’t think he sounded unkind; rather, like he knew this was a lot to lay on someone and he was trying to help keep him calm much like one would calm a skittish animal.

Max felt Val’s fingers briefly wrap around his for one short, hard squeeze.  “Yeah,” he said, breathing out a breath that felt like he’d been holding it all his life.  “Okay.”

"All right.  Now I need your permission, Max. It’s a blind, blanket permission for me to use whatever means I deem fit to make sure you aren't yanking my chain here. What I see, what I hear and know when I get finished won't leave this apartment.”  He gestured over his shoulder.  “If you want, I’ll ask everyone else to leave if it helps you feel more comfortable.  And you can ask any questions you want at anytime."

Max looked at Val.  _Well, you already know everything about me there is…I think_.  He didn’t know the other men in the room beyond introductions and a short speech on these Pillars but beyond the demonstration of McAran’s tele-something-or-other, no one had been overtly threatening.  Plus, they all really seemed to _believe_ in this.  He glanced at Val again.  Val looked back at him and slightly inclined his head as if to say it was up to Max.

He nodded.  “Okay.”

"Good enough," Jan said and pulled his legs up to sit in a lotus position on the table. He gave Max a searching look and then nodded. "Who is Rebecca, Max?"

Max jerked his head around to look at Val, eyes accusing him of telling Jan, telling any of them. Eyes wide, Val shook his head at the same time he tilted it over at Andrew and Adam to indicate he had not said anything to them.

Max looked down at his lap and rubbed his hands against his thighs.  He had to forcibly stop from clenching them into fists.  When he looked back up at Jan, the desire to leave was suddenly overwhelming.  The words to say no, that he had changed his mind were heavy on his tongue and only required him to open his mouth to speak them into being and change the course of his life back to what he knew.  Instead, he clenched his teeth until he could swallow the words back down, reminding himself Val knew and Val still thought he was worth helping, worth friendship.  Maybe someone else would too.

Opening his mouth, he haltingly told the story again, words and fragmented sentences connected by long pauses as he laid it out.  He found he couldn’t look directly at Jan all the time and alternated trying to keep eye contact with letting his gaze roam around the room and occasionally light on the other men.  He was still too rattled by Jan’s asking of the question to try and gauge how they were dealing with the story he was telling but at least it gave Max a few moments respite from Jan’s odd, steady gaze.

He could feel sweat trickle down his back as he finished and his skin felt tight and hot.  “That’s it,” he said.

Jan nodded. "One death but not directly involved.  Any more, Max? Any time that you willfully or willingly took another person's life regardless of the reason or justification?"

Max felt absurdly grateful he could shake his head in response.  "No," he said firmly.  “Nobody else."  He hoped that was the end of it but he couldn’t have been more wrong.  There were more questions, amazingly detailed, and each one gave Max the feeling Jan knew the answer before he ever said a word.  He didn’t know how the other man might do that except by being able to read his mind but Max had the distinct feeling that Jan was comparing what Max said out loud to information he already had.  More beads of sweat trickled down his back and he could feel his T-shirt start to stick to his skin as it began to sink in that these people might very well be telling the truth – about all of it.

“Family?” Jan asked him.

“None,” Max replied.  By this point, he knew one-word answers weren’t going to get him anywhere.  He sighed in resignation which elicited a half-smile from Jan in response.  “My dad died in prison.  He flipped and got killed for it.”

“Your mother?”

“She’s…I don’t know,” Max said.  “Last time I saw her, I was about eight or something like that.  Might be dead by now.  Might not.”

“Do you care?” Jan asked.

Max leaned over to grab the glass of water someone had finally, thankfully, provided and drank several swallows before answering.  It was on the tip of his tongue to ask why he should.  After all, she’d abandoned him to the tender ministrations of the New Jersey foster care system, but the words changed when he opened his mouth.  “I don’t know.  Sometimes I don’t.  Sometimes…I do.  I don’t think about either of them a lot but I knew her – well, I didn’t know her.  I was a kid.  But I have some memories of her and none of my father so I guess…maybe I do a little.”

Jan abruptly shifted topic again and delved into Max’s own criminal history up to and including the time he’d spent in New Orleans working for Vault and while the clock might have said it was only a few hours since they’d arrived, Max felt like he’d been answering questions for years by the time Jan uncrossed his legs and gave a satisfied nod.

Max leaned his head back and shut his eyes. “Worst job interview _ever_ ,” he muttered to Val and heard his friend chuckle.  Another laugh made him open his eyes to find Andrew looking at him and smiling.

"You're a good man, Max Griffin," Jan said at last. "You don't have to be involved with us and you might not want to be because, in a lot of ways, our lives aren't that different from what you've known. We just approach it from a different perspective. If you do, be prepared to notch your believability factor up a few levels.  You do have a Gift which means you were born with it.  You already use it but you just don’t have any control over it.  We can teach you that."

Jan’s grin was back and his eyes danced with silent laughter. "We get involved in some very weird shit just so you know.  But we’re also depressingly normal.  If you want it, we can get you work. Both Adam and Pete came off the road tour circuit but we always need people here who can load in sets and build them, rig them, work with the sound system; that kind of thing. We can offer part-time or full-time.  Pay’s comparable to other outfits.  If you need a place to stay, we have apartments available that we reserve for students until you can find a place of your own. Despite all the other stuff you've been exposed to tonight, MATADA is a real honest-to-God working theatre.”

He reached into his back pocket, pulled out his wallet and gave Max a business card. "Give it a day or so to settle and let the questions come.  Then call me, call Adam or Andrew. We’ll be here to answer them."

"You mentioned work.  I've got a pretty decent handyman knowledge," Max answered, taking the card. After all he'd just been through, the card was depressingly ordinary, which wasn’t a bad thing, he firmly told himself.  If the  _card_  had started asking him questions, he would have bolted out of there faster than even Val could move. "What do you mean about a 'gift', though?" he asked uncomprehendingly. "And what do I have already?"

"I haven't assessed your full potentials,” Jan answered.  “Most of them are latent – meaning if you were going to have the Sight like Adam or be a Kinetic like Andy, they would have shown up by now. The most present gift you have is what we call an Anchor. Pete is one," Jan said, glancing at his stocky friend. "That means other people with more active gifts can use you to draw strength from. You are like a battery they can plug into. It's what Val is doing to you and why you were able to pull him off that kid in the alley and not get your throat ripped out. He is feeding off your strength, Max." Jan said evenly, glancing at Val with a less than benevolent gaze.

Max stared at the small group. Of course, he’d help Val out. They were friends. Before he could follow up, however, Adam intervened. "Jan," Adam said, getting up with a glance at Val and nodded toward the back area of Jan’s apartment. Jan rose and followed.  Their voices were soft, only the rise and fall of them audible.  When they re-emerged, Jan's gaze shifted to Val and his expression changed to something a little grim and a little sad.

"You are sure about this, Val?" Jan asked, his gaze shifting to Max. "You have to ask."

"If he will," Val said, looking at his friend. "Max, I want you to see...what Adam sees.  What I really am."

Max furrowed his brow.  “Huh?” he asked.  Andrew had made some vague reference to that back at the house but Max had been too concerned with Val then to pay much attention. "I know what you are," he answered. "I can see you."

"No, you can't, Max," Adam said softly. "You see his physical form.  You see a friend and a lot of things that are there. But what he truly can’t be seen by the eyes you’re currently looking with."

Max glanced around at all the other men, noting what seemed to be a feeling of sadness or resignation. "If you want to, I guess.  Sure."

Andrew motioned Max to get up and sat down beside Val when he did.

"This won't hurt, Max, but it will be odd," Adam said, coming up behind him and turning him to face Pete instead of Val.  He left his hands on Max’s shoulders and Jan stepped up beside him to take one of Max’s hands in his. 

"Don't fight it,” Jan instructed.  His voice sounded like it was coming from inside a deep well. 

Max blinked. He could still see Pete but he saw shapes and color.  That was the first concept his mind could grasp.  Only it wasn’t really color but more like golden light that moved like water.  His brain fought for a reference and he was rewarded with the image of a tree like Pete's last name.  It was a huge solid tree with a tap root that went deep and branches that reached out in dozens of directions.

"Andy," Jan said in that deep voice again that seemed to ring inside Max's head. He was aware of movement and then the shape of Andrew was in front of him all gold and blue.  The gold was different from anything he had seen around Pete. It was brighter, like pure sunlight, but where Pete's aura had seemed to move and flow, Andrew had his colors under control, overlaid against each other, layer upon layer of strength and the bright edge of something that seemed knife-sharp. He was bright, almost hurting Max's eyes and he wanted to close them but managed not to do so.  He could hear Adam talking to him.  The words weren’t clear but they were in a calm, soothing tone and he tried to relax even as his brain continued to tell him that what he was seeing wasn’t real.

"Valentine," Jan's voice softened to a whisper and his hand tightened on Max's.

Darkness moved and obliterated all the soft colors, sucking them into something so deep and bottomless that Max felt like he was falling. He tried to regain his equilibrium at the same time he felt like his breath was being sucked out of him. He could see Val the same way he could still see Pete and Andrew. The face and body were the same but there were no colors this time save a thick tendril of viscous red that moved and shifted around Val like a snake. Other colors seemed to touch Val, but they wrapped around him instead of seeming to come from within him as they did with the other two men. Underneath it all was a darkness that seemed to swallow everything, endless and yawning and terrifying like the drop from the top of the coaster track only there was no ground to break his fall this time.

Trying to make sense of the darkness that surrounded him, Max became aware of the connection Jan had mentioned.  Flares of green and soft yellow stretched between he and Val like a lifeline. It pulsed like a heartbeat and Max could see where it was stalled at Val's end, the colors eddying and faltering as if there were a dam erected against them. But the dam was none too steady, pulsing as well and a small trickle of the flow got through every time. When he saw that, Max realized he could feel just a little of the Hunger Val had spoken of as sitting like broken glass in his gut, always there and always waiting.  It washed back along the connection between them.

He wanted to reach out along that connection and pull Val back to him across the yawning chasm that seemed to separate the two of them. Max could feel the ebb and flow of the Hunger that trickled between them, could feel the power that it held as well as the seductive edge. It called out like a living, breathing thing.  It was just a whisper but even that whisper was enough to simultaneously attract and repel him.

He knew somehow this was not a physical realm that he was seeing but the only way he could have his brain make sense of this was to think in physical terms. He wanted to step out and see if he could push any of this color and its energy towards Val to chase away some of the thick blackness surrounding him. Thinking almost seemed to equal doing and he could the green and yellow push harder against the dam but then it was gone and there was an unspoken admonition not to try that again.

_He's not human, Max. Not anymore_ , Jan's voice was now in his head. Within a heartbeat, Max saw the other lines of connection and knew they were the links between Val and his family and another pair, as strong if not stronger than his connection to Max that spoke of Val's tie to Tevis in bright yellows and rich ambers.  His ties to Madeleine were the color of blood tinged with violet and orange. 

Max's vision snapped back to normal with enough force to make him stagger.  Jan let go of his hand while Adam held him steady.  Andrew stood behind Val like some sort of protector and Val looked mostly like Val again except his face was impassive, his hands were jammed in his pockets and his eyes were fixed on the floor. It was the most remote Max had ever seen him

"Hey, bro," he tried quietly, getting no response. "Robin?" At that Val's eyes flicked over and Adam interceded, cutting off Max's view of Val.

"Drink this," Adam said and pressed a glass into his hands. "Doing what we did costs energy and you need to eat or drink something every time to ground yourself again. Lesson number one in What Do I Do When Weird Shit Happens?" he said lightly.

Max set the glass down by his foot. "Lesson number one in Weird Shit Happening is somebody _explains_ the weird shit to me."

"Val has killed nine people directly," Jan said baldly. "Whether he meant to or not but at least five of those were with full knowledge of what he was doing. I don't care that they were pimps and pushers, Val." Jan said evenly. "Even if I agree with you that they deserved some punishment, what you did has no excuse."

Val remained silent but he nodded.

"And you will do it again," Jan added more softly. "Every life you take opens the Hunger wider, Val. You have done incredibly well and if you had come to us right after you were made, we might have been able to help you more with that and with the blood bond to your sire. Jan’s face hardened slightly.  “If he shows here again, I will know it and I will take care of it.”  His expression softened.  “However, I can’t remove the vampiric influence without you dying, Val; permanently this time.   But I can tag you and if you ever push past your own control, I can take you out."

“The fuck!” Max exclaimed.  “Why the hell would you do that?”  Val Everett was his friend...his _brother_. He’d fight like hell before he’d let Jan do anything to Val.

"Max, he can't help himself," Jan said quietly, glancing between the two younger men. "It makes no difference that he never asked to become a vampire. What you saw is the nature of what he is. This isn't about being good or evil. Val is trying to cause as little harm as he can and still survive which is admirable. But he’s only been a vampire for four years.  His instincts and his reactions are still very much like those when he was human but he’s losing ground and will continue to do so.  When he is hungry he has little or no control and his only strength is in the people he cares about and his fear is what keeps him from turning on them; friends, though, not strangers.”

Max glanced at Val and thought he saw the other man looking at him but Val’s gaze returned to the floor the moment he realized Max was looking in his direction.

“He has yet to experience a full frenzy and if he is very careful he never will but if he does, Max, the only way we can stop him is to kill him. It is very likely that one day you may turn around and not see Val but only The Hunger – and it will be the last thing you see. The worst part of it is that you would probably let him feed off you if he were hungry or hurting.  If you died, you would make him worse, not better."

Max looked over at Val again and waited until the vampire raised his eyes to meet Max’s. “That true?  You gonna go dark side on me?”  Despite his initial response, Max couldn't deny he'd seen glimpses of the Val that Jan had described. The street fight had been the most vivid and Val himself had even referred to that nature within himself when he and Max had talked about vampires.

"I try not to, Max," Val said. "I told you what I thought I understood but there wasn't anyway to show you until Adam told me.  I need you, Max. I need my family. But keeping you all close...it would be so easy..." his voice broke. "You were lying in that bed after the fight with Charlie and you offered to let me feed off you, Max!"

He laughed bitterly, crossing his arms across his chest.  "That what you want, Max? How about a couple years down the line you marry my sister?  You come home and there I am.  I’m a little hungry so I feed off you except maybe I’m a little out of it and don’t check my instincts at the door and I end up…”  Val clenched his hands into fists.  “I end up raping you because that’s what can happen.  When I fed on you on the roof, Max, I wanted it. _Needed_ it like you need to breathe.  I could have made you feel things you never wanted to feel, made you come in my hand and _beg_ me for it,” he snarled.  Admitting what he wanted and what would have been so easy for him to do to his friend made Val feel dirty and cheap.  Max trusted him and he’d nearly repaid his best friend by raping him.

"I can't live like this, Max. If these guys can't help me then I have to make sure I'm not anywhere near you or my family. It would be too easy for me to…misuse your love for me."

"And who's going to teach you that? Madeleine? Bullshit!" Max responded angrily, standing his ground. "I've seen her, Val. Those rituals Vault used to make me go to as his bodyguard? She was there. That woman don't do anything that doesn't suit her and her aloneand that's only when she's good and ready."

"I don't know but Jan's right. If I am going to turn into...something else, it’s better to do it where you and my family are out of reach. And I can't..." His expression softened. "I can't leave Tevis. He knows what I am and I am pretty sure Madeleine would stop me from hurting him if it came down to it. But she has him bound to her the way my sire bound me and I can't break that."

"It's not that you can't leave. You won't." That was the closest Max could come to acknowledging Val's link with Tevis at the moment. He wanted to rip Val away from Tevis and Madeleine and put his friend somewhere safe away from everyone who would try to hurt him.

"Maybe. If I could find a way to get him loose I might be tempted to bring him here and let Andrew put me on a short leash. Until she releases him, though, I’m caught too.”  Val sighed.  “I love him, Max. I love him the way you are starting to love Tree or my parents love each other.  I want to spend the rest of his life with him.  I know Madeleine is using us against each other. Tevis can't not do what she wants.  I have to be okay with that and, right now, I am."

Val’s relationship with Tevis didn’t sound like the kind of love Val was comparing it to but Max kept his mouth shut.  There wasn’t anything he could say to change Val’s mind and he knew it.  Instead, he reached forward and took Val’s hand.  It was cool and solid, giving Max back his anchor to the Val he knew and loved. "You're still Robin to my Batman. That doesn't change."

The smile Val gave him was almost worth everything that had happened. "Make it a deal.”  He bit his lower lip, unconsciously letting his fangs show. "I’ll let Jan tag me to keep me from becoming any worse."

Max started to speak and Val pressed his fingers to his lips. "I don't want to become someone you can't recognize, Max. I don't want it ever to come to it between us where you have to choose to kill or be killed.  I already know what my choice would be. I buried a lover already. Don't ask me to even think about burying a friend or brother." Val's hand turned and his thumb very briefly brushed over Max's mouth before he pulled his fingers away and looked at their clasped hands.

He turned to Jan. "Is it here we say ‘I'm it’?"

Max started slightly but only Val seemed to catch it. Everything was upside down. He was supposed to be the guy with no options, the one whose lifestyle would end up getting him killed. Now Val was the one who seemed to be between a rock and a hard place and voluntarily putting his head on the block if what he was telling Max about the Hunger was true. He opened his mouth to say something but felt Val squeeze his hand very lightly and tried to sit back, reminding himself that this was Val's decision. He couldn't interfere.

"This is going to hurt, Val," Jan warned. "I can't track you by your aura.  You don't have one. One vampire pretty much looks like another from where I sit except when they’re feeding. It's the only time there is enough life in you to track. So you are going to know you are being watched every time you feed no matter what else you may be doing at the same time. If you kill someone, I”ll know."

"No 'three strikes and I'm out'?" Val asked with a forced laugh.

Jan shook his head. "Not like that.  Chaos is as important as Order. If you don't want to become such a thing, then I can monitor you and feed you a kind of warning to let you know.  When you stop heeding the warning, then we see what has to be done."

Max tapped Val's hand lightly with his thumb to get his attention. "Listen to the warning. Please." He let Val's hand go as the vampire stood up.

"If you are ready, then," Jan said. "Andy, be ready to batten down all hatches. He's going to be hungry when we are done. Andy's down a bit in the blood department already so...spare a pint, Pete?"

"Sure," Pete rose up without hesitation.

"I think it’s my turn," Adam said. "I owe you one, Val."

"Wait a minute," Max said, standing up also. "What about me?"

"No." Val snapped out almost before Max spoke. "This is what I meant. I don't want you to see this."

"Shut up, Val!" Max snapped. "You told me that you want me to take care of your family. Don't you think maybe part of that might be helping to keep your ass alive and in a form that somebody besides a trick can appreciate?"

"You can't help me with this, Max. You don't know what the fuck you’re doing!" Val insisted.

Max ignored that and looked straight at Jan, willing himself to confront those gold-green eyes. "You guys said that there's this...thing between us and that's why he doesn't hurt me. Why not me?"

Jan studied him. "Primarily because you don't know what you are doing, Max.  You are everything a good friend should be but not exactly wise in this case.  This isn’t a walk on a roof ledge.  We have no doubt of your sincerity but knowing what Val goes through and participating in it are two different things. I have to tag him when he is hungry.  To do that I have to bleed him and Andy will have to hold him down while I do it.  Val’s going to be in a lot of pain.” 

"Max--" Val began.

"What?”  Max switched his gaze to Val. “You said yourself that what happened to me was because of indecision. That's true. But if I'm gonna go out, I'd rather go out because of a decision I made on my own." He looked back at Jan, abashed, clearing his throat. "Val had to ask. I'm asking."

"No!" Val said it again. "Max, you have no idea,  Did you hear anything I said, you asshole?  It’s not just the Hunger.  No." He looked to Jan for support.

The tall man sat down. "I am inclined to let him, Val. He's right. No matter what Andy does, the physical risks to Adam or Pete are high and I don't have a Healer handy. Chances are, at this point, that you would _not_ try to kill Max. Andy can hold you while we drain you enough to trigger the hunger.  The trick is afterwards.  It’s an acceptable risk for us because it’s part of what we do.  But, all in all, Max _is_ the best candidate and he's offering."

"And the rest?" Val snarled. "At least Adam knows what to expect and Pete is... " He glanced at the stocky man who smiled a little and inclined his head.

"Is what?" Max demanded.

"Gay," Pete said calmly.

"Well, somebody's gotta be," Max snapped, still caught up in the argument.  His brain helpfully replayed the last thirty seconds a moment later. "Sorry,” he apologized to Pete.  “That didn't exactly come out right."

"There's more than the Hunger to deal with," Andrew interjected. "Given the methods used to make Val a vampire, he has some holdovers.  Basically, he’s left in a severe state of sexual need after he feeds. His sire made it a part of the transformation and then added to it with a blood bond. Val was a toy and he wanted to make sure his toy didn't wear down too soon," Andrew explained. "So remaining a prostitute in one form or another has managed to allow Val to handle both his needs. If we manage to get the Hunger under control and get him tagged, there will be that to take care of as well. You aren't inclined that way. Neither is Adam," he said, glancing at his friend with a fond smile. "But he has been known to indulge, on occasion, in his very checkered past."

"You have an evil sense of humor," Adam said, flushing slightly as he smiled.

"And when Val feeds, it’s usually intensely sexual as well," Andrew said.

"Just let it go, Max. Let me do this and we can go." Val begged.

"Jan says I'm the best candidate, Val. And I am offering whether you like it or not." Max looked back at Jan. "What do I do?"

"Actually very little," Jan told him. "Here's the drill. I’m going to bleed Val enough to trigger the Hunger and Andy is going to keep him from attacking. I tag him while he feeds from you.  In theory, it works.  In reality, things could go very bad very quickly.  Are you sure about this, Max?"

Max swallowed and the breath that escaped him was shaky at best. "Yes."

"Val?" Jan asked.

"If I freak out, can you stop me?" he asked.

"Yes," Andrew told him. "But whoever you’re feeding off of is going to be at risk. Jan's a fair hand at healing but it’s not his primary talent so you need to stay in control."

"If it helps, Val, I really do think Max is the best candidate for you to feed from,” Jan added.  “And exactly for the reason he says. His offer says a lot about him – and you.  If it’s the other you’re worried about, I think Pete or Andy would agree to let Max tap out and let one of them take care of the aftermath." He smirked at both men and then his expression sobered. "Given my present options, Val, I'm not sure I would consider the other alternative again without a couple of tests and I don't think we have that kind of time."

The vampire nodded and pulled away from Andy to stare out Jan's windows for a long moment while he thought about it. Maybe it would be better if Max understood so that if that choice of kill or be killed ever came up, he wouldn't be caught off guard.  He would know what Val looked like and acted like when the Hunger was in full force.  But this was hard and made even harder still because he thought Max might be offering as a form of payback.  Max might still think he owed Val something and Val had no way to reassure him that there wasn’t anything to repay except by letting Max go through this because, despite Val’s protestations, he knew Jan was right.  Max had been the easy meal at least three times and Val had resisted each time the same way he resisted taking too  much from Tevis when his lover fed him. 

But if Max was offering for other reasons…Val shied away from that train of thought.  It was too late for any of that.

Sticking his hands in his pockets, Val turned around and nodded. "Okay," he said, “but feeding only.  As soon as you have me tagged, you put me down."

"The night is waning, gentlemen," Jan said and got up. "Pete, there is a basin under the sink and a first aid kit. Everyone else, this way." Jan led the way to his bedroom which was just as spare and utilitarian as the rest of his home. Pete came in with the requested supplies and Adam with followed with some towels. The first aid kit produced a small scalpel and Val took off his borrowed shirt, handing it to Adam as he sat on the edge of the bed.

"Just hang back a bit, Max," Andrew said quietly as Adam and Pete left the room, closing the door behind them.

"How fast do you heal, Val?" Jan asked.

"Small cuts heal pretty easily so it had better be deep. When I start to feed, it will heal more quickly. And I move fast," he said and glanced at Max.

Jan seemed to consider this new information. "Andy, have Pete run down to properties and bring back a couple of sets of handcuffs. Any objections, Val?"

Val shrugged and smiled a little. "Wouldn't be the first time," he said but his voice was flat.

"Your sire," Jan said. "I'd forgotten."

"'s okay," Val said. "Done it since," he said but he couldn't look at Max any longer.

Pete returned with the cuffs and gave them to Andy, closing the door again on his way out.  Andy gave a set to Max and both of them secured Val’s wrists and ankles. 

"Ready?" Jan asked and glanced at Andy. The big man moved closer, sat on the edge of the bed and nodded.

Jan held Val's wrist over the basin and sliced carefully into his wrist, almost an inch long cut into the vein. Val hissed and looked away as the blood began flowing dark and thick, slowly dripping into the basin when it should have been spurting.

"Too slow," Jan said flatly as the cut started to close over.

"Again, then," Val said between clenched teeth and Jan cut again.  Fluid began to spill heavily into the basin. Val started to whimper, taking short harsh breaths he didn't need as he watched his blood drain. He moaned and tried to free his hands.  Jan backed off, watching him, eyes never wavering until Val hissed at him and began struggling wildly. "Let me go!" he snarled out, lunging at Jan, and falling off the bed when his manacled feet tripped him up. He let out a cry that was part scream, part groan.

"Come on, Val" Jan said quietly, watching as the blood continued to drain from Val's wrist. "Just get there. We'll catch you."

This was not Val, Max thought while his brain tried to process what he was seeing. Even having seen what Val was on the other plane had not prepared him for the change in his friend. He understood better now how Yvette could have made such a mess.  At this point, Val was less human than some mad animals Max had seen. His face was contorted and twisted, the dark eyes glittering like a cat's then he screamed in pure rage and the handcuffs at his wrists snapped. Val lunged for Jan, getting a grip on his arm and jerking him down as he hissed like a wildcat, tearing at Jan's shirt to get to the flesh below.

"Andy!" Jan snapped out and Andrew moved, grabbing at Jan and pulling him back with one hand while his other came up in an open-palmed gesture. Val screamed again but went still, chest heaving as he fought against the invisible binding.

"Shit!" Jan hissed, examining his arm where Val's fingernails had left deep gouges in his flesh.  Blood welled from the gashes. "Fuck, he's strong! How are you holding?"

"Holding," Andy said tensely, clamping his hand around the bloodied arm and reaching for the first aid kit. A roll of gauze was wrapped quickly around Jan’s wounds but blood continued to seep through the rough bandage.

"Put him down, Andy. We have to rethink this," Jan said.

Andrew moved in front of Val, the hand closing, and Val went limp.  Andrew tossed a second roll of gauze to Max. "See if you can get that to stop,” he ordered, pointing to the cut on Val’s arm that still sluggishly bled.

Max nearly fumbled the toss and he gripped the roll tightly so that none of the others could see his shaking hands.  _It's just like walking the ledges, Griffin_ , he told himself as he moved towards Val and began to wind the gauze around his arm.  _Control. You can feel your heart beat.  You can feel fear but it's not gonna overwhelm you. You can control it_. He wrapped the gauze around Val's cut until there were no red spots showing through, then used his teeth to tear the strip off the roll. Tossing it back at Andrew, he ripped the tail of gauze halfway down the middle and used the two separate ends to tie a knot that would secure the bandage in place. "Done," he told them.

"Now what?" Andrew asked. "We can't leave him like that for long."

"I know.  Fuck!" Jan cursed. "Can you let him up by stages, Andy?"

"Yeah, I think so. Max, you ready?" Andrew asked.

He rubbed his suddenly cold hands together and blew on them. "Yeah. What do you need?"

"Just your wrist, Max," Andrew said, undoing the cuffs on Val's ankles and trading them for the ones on his wrists. "I'll take him back down if he goes feral on us again."

Max did as he was told and ended up sitting on the floor with Val propped up against him.  His back rested against the bed frame.  He saw Andrew gesture with his hand again and Val began to stir, whimpering again as consciousness returned.  Max put his wrist up by Val’s mouth and Val latched on like a dog with a bone.

It hurt and it was all Max could do not to pull away even when Val's bound hands came up to hold his arm against his mouth. The fingers of his free hand dug into the carpet as he grimaced, drew a deep breath and forced himself to relax.

"Talk to him, Max," Jan said."Talk to him," His eyes were closed, concentration obvious on his face. "I can't tag him unless he's feeding."

Max tried to form words around the sharp, twin pains that were driving through his wrist and starting to extend up into his arm. He bent his head close to Val’s ear and began to whisper.  "Val, it's me. Max. Batman. The guy that almost fell off the roof, remember? Ease up a bit, huh?" He bit his lip as Val seemed to clamp down even harder. "You were right, you know," he continued in low tones meant for Val alone. "There isn't any debt between us. His free arm hooked around Val's waist and he bent closer to Val's ear. "I'm doing this 'cause I love you, you idiot."

Whether it was Max's words or Andrew's control, Val stopped fighting.  Instead, he seemed to relax and made small sounds as he fed, almost sighs, and his eyes lost some of their glazed look.  He closed his eyes and the bite became less painful.  The ache in Max's arm disappeared almost immediately and then changed...altered.

Max caught his breath as the feelings changed from pain to bliss in the blink of an eye.  He kept his head bowed against the back of Val’s neck and forced himself to remember where he was and what he was doing, that this was not _him_.  He could feel Val's need, feel the sheer physical reaction in Val to the release from his Hunger made up of equal parts relief and satisfaction.  Val was not even really aware of who he was feeding from, only that the Hunger had eased and the pain and panic was gone. It all washed through Max and the feeling of not having his body or mind entirely under his own control left him edgy.  He tried to pull away as Val made a pitiful sound and clung to his arm.

"Got him," Jan said finally.

Val pushed against Max like a cat and everything about Val became amplified to Max from the softness of his hair where it fell across his wrist to the cool smooth skin under his hands to the muscles along Val's back as he tried to curl into Max's chest and continue to feed.  Max kept his arm looped around Val’s waist and tried to concentrate on the feel of the bed frame against his back, the sound of his own breathing and heartbeat, anything as Val kept trying to push against his shaky barriers. 

Max understood that the feelings pressing against him were all induced and none of his own making but it was difficult to keep track of exactly who was who when his heart rate sped up or he felt his skin flush.  Before he could figure out what was happening, a visceral reaction swept through his groin and he felt his body automatically respond in arousal.

“Fuck…fuckfuckfuck,” he whispered to himself, forehead against Val’s neck.  _It’s not me.  It’s not me._ Max kept repeating that mantra to himself, trying to differentiate between his own reactions and the ones Val kept forcing through the odd link created by his feeding. 

The vampire was twisting against him, mouth still fixed on his wrist, alternating sounds between the same whimpers and moans of near pleasure. He sucked gently and Max had an instinctive response, almost moaning himself as his body reacted.  It vaguely crossed his mind that Val could drain him dry and he wouldn't care.

"Enough," he heard Jan or Andy say and chanced a look up to see Jan trying to carefully pull Max’s wrist from the vampire’s mouth. 

Val groaned softly and dropped his head. "More..." he whispered pitifully.

The sensations Max had experienced stopped when Val stopped feeding and Max tried to move a bit, mildly cursing the automatic physical evidence, then glanced at his friend. Andrew was releasing his wrists but Val barely noticed. He was on his knees, bent over and rocking, almost crying.

"Val?" The vampire didn't seem to hear him. He looked for all the world like people Max had known coming off of bad trips. "What's going on?" he asked Jan.

"I'll get Pete," Jan said wearily. "If Val needs to feed some more, he can take care of both." The tall man got up and Max nodded.

"You go. I'm waiting here." A wet sensation on his forearm showed him that small drops of blood were still trickling down his wrist into his palm. "It's OK, Val," he said as Jan got up to call Pete in. "You're gonna be fine." Some long-buried instinct surfaced and he pulled the rocking vampire to him, fitting Val against his chest and wrapping his arms around him, resting his chin on Val's shoulder and accustoming himself to Val's back and forth motion.

Max could feel Val nestle against him and started talking again to try and keep the vampire from feeding any further. "Val, you gotta close up my wrist.  You wouldn't want people to think you don't have any table manners, would you?" he whispered. He held out his wrist in front of the vampire and, after a pause, Val very carefully took the wrist in both hands and brought it to his mouth. Max tensed but there was only the softest brush against the skin and then Val let go.  When Max looked, the feeding site was closed with only two tiny welts as the reminder.

"We’ll work it out," he murmured in Val's ear. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an independent work based on the concept of the Kindred from the White Wolf World of Darkness Role-Playing Game and Novels. The concept of Immortality and the Game as presented here are the property of Gregory Widen and Panzer/Davis Productions, as are the characters of Duncan MacLeod and Methos (among others.) The Lattice characters and concepts appear here by permission of V. Watts and M. Snowden. All other characters and concepts are the property and creation of thewildmole and V. Watts.
> 
> Maygra and I originally began this saga way back in the dark reaches of the 1990's. We might have called this When Worlds Collide because it is a collision of sorts. Take a World of Darkness RPG, a healthy dose of the original universe set out in Lattice (by Snowden and Watts) and toss in two young men trying to make sense of the world around them, the balances between Chaos and Order, and the need to hold onto their own souls and you have Twin Sons and Different Brothers. Max and Val met by accident -- not unlike their creators. Maygra and I have enjoyed a long friendship apart from this collaboration but it would have never originally happened without this story. Having some time on my hands, I (thewildmole) decided to edit the original work and repost it (something Maygra is fine with). ...
> 
> We warn you now that the language is frequently harsh and the situations harsher. (Rated NC17 for violence, language and sexual situations.) The NPC Characters of Tevis, Madeleine, Crispin and assorted other vampires and inhabitants of New Orleans, belong to original World of Darkness RPG Game Mistress and Goddess Meg Wittenmyer (I think we have her permission.)
> 
> Warning: The following story may be rated G, PG, R, NC17 or even X. It may contain graphic depictions of sex between men or between men and women. I can pretty much guarantee there won't be any sex between people and animals...but nothing is ever 100%. Vampires, Immortals, Jedi and other anomolies are fair game though. There may be violence, graphic violence, nudity, bad language or adult themes. There may be non-consensual sex, rape, partner rape, hurt/comfort, and mental anguish. There may be torture, sadism, masochism, bondage, or bad verb conjugations. There may be death, there may be a major character death. The ending may be happy or it may be really depressing. There may be much affection, cuddling and kissing. There may be an uneasy resolution. Over-the-topness is not guaranteed but is highly probable. There may even be a plot. Or, there may be none of those things. You have been warned.This material may not be copied or distributed without permission--we intend no copyright infringement, make no profit and promise to share. Welcome to the darkside of the soap opera. Comments may be be sent to thewildmole@gmail.com and maygra@bellsouth.net


	11. Homemade Chaos

Max felt something touch his shoulder and looked up to see Pete and Jan standing there. Jan made a motion and Max reluctantly let go of Val and Pete took his place. Jan tilted his head toward the door and led Max outside.

"How're you doing?"

"Fine," Max said. "I just need to wash my hands." He looked back at the bedroom door. "He is going to be all right at least for now, isn't he?"

"For now," Jan said. "I'm keeping an eye on him."

Max nodded. "Until they come out, can we talk some more about these gifts and things? Pillars and all that?"

"Sure,” Jan agreed. “But this time you do need to drink something and eat something," he added firmly. "Get it into your head, Max. If you are going to work with us, that's one of the things you learn: replenish the energy. You’ll need it."

He let Jan lead him into the kitchen. The tall man sat at the counter that separated the kitchen area form the living area and thanked Adam when he shoved a glass of Gatorade at him and a plate full of sandwiches, cut fruit, cheese and vegetables. Max washed his hands more thoroughly than necessary and dried them on a paper towel. Crumpling the towel in his hand, Max leaned against the sink and stared at nothing for a long time. "How do I find out what I can do?" he finally asked.

Adam handed him some juice and the look on Jan's face told him he would get no answers until he made a start. Reluctantly, Max sipped at the liquid and then again, suddenly aware that he was both thirsty and exhausted and the juice helped. He decided he was hungry as well and moved to the counter. He picked up a piece of cheese and tore it into smaller, equal pieces before putting one in his mouth. Adam put some more food on a plate and left.

Jan remained silent as he wolfed down another sandwich and a second glass of juice before getting up to fix a cup of coffee. Sitting back down, he turned to face Max. "It's not so much what you can do as what you are willing to do, Max," he said at last. "Most of us got into this pretty much the way you did – by accident. Of all of us here, Andrew is the only one who pretty much knew what his gifts were and had people who understood and were willing to find him people who could teach him. That's rare. So are the teachers," Jan added, taking a sip of his coffee.

"That's one of the things we’re working to correct. People with gifts like Adam and Andrew have are rare as is their ability to function in the real world. A lot of people that have similar gifts can't. They either go insane from the assault of their senses or they shut down, lock those gifts down so tight they rarely surface. There are a lot of complicated interactions between natural Gifts and acquired Talents. Everyone has its merits, no matter how minor. The Gift you most strongly show, requires very little actual training. It's as much a part of who you are as Val's Hunger is a part of him." He paused and smiled a little sadly. "Maybe not the best analogy."

"Stop me if I get to something you don't understand," he told Max and set his cup down. "This complex, MATADA, is as much a recruitment and training center for young psychics as it is a theatre. That’s primarily because there are a higher percentage of active gifts in the performing and visual arts than anywhere else in the population. But there aren't enough of us to go out searching for them and finding them isn't always the easiest thing to do since the assessment of a gift potential is a gift in itself. Besides me and Evan, we have one other person in our particular group who can spot a potential from a distance. And my ability to go out and look is pretty limited at the moment. It may always be," he said and there was as much anger as resignation in the last statement.

"So what you're telling me is that there's...these people like you and McAran and the rest. You guys look for people to help you maintain this balance between Order and Chaos you’ve been talking about?” Max felt a need to have something to at least lay a firm foundation if he was going to pursue belief on the things they were telling him. He still wasn't sure if they would have him be any part of it but he had to try if for nothing else than to not make him crazy over the things he’d seen and been part of over the last several hours.

Jan nodded. “Yes. And Gifts have a tendency to be pretty singular in their effectiveness. Like Andy's shield. He has a bit of Sight, a bit of Hearing and a hell of a lot of Empathy but his primary is a kinetic Gift. In Andy's case, it means that he could stop a runaway eighteen-wheeler with a little concentration but he has to see it first. It’s a very localized gift."

"Here at MATADA, we use those Gifts to try and keep that balance you’ve been told about. Mankind’s swing toward the Order side of the scale is what started the industrial age as man tried to bring the world into some kind of control. Now we have a shitload of problems because we went too far, everything from pollution to chemical warfare. Slip the other way and you have the madness of the middle ages with witch-burnings and superstition and the onset of the Plague. We are looking for middle ground and we need people to help us."

Max ate the second piece of cheese in front of him. “What exactly are these Gifts you keep mentioning?” he asked. “You’ve told me what people have but what is it based on?”

"All primary gifts are generally linked to both your five normal senses: hearing, taste, touch, feel and smell and to your physical abilities," Jan explained and stopped for a moment to take a drink. "That's the best way I can describe it. Adam's Sight is linked to his vision. If he went blind, chances are his Gift would fade as well. Your primary Gift, Max, is a kind of strength. It’s called being an Anchor. And, based on what else I’ve seen, my guess would be you have a fairly strong gift of Empathy as well which means you most likely have augments.”

No one had told him becoming legit was going to require vocabulary lessons. “Augments?” he asked.

“Augments are the areas in which Gifts cross to create or produce additional gifts,” Jan explained. “Like healing. Healing requires Empathy, Sight and a Kinetic gift. That’s something we can look into later for you. But, like I said, part of your ability as an Anchor will be tied to your physical strength. If you are physically sick or use drugs, for example, your usefulness would be severely limited.”

Max nodded. “I think I’m following so far.” He set down the last piece of cheese.

"Back to your question, then. What you can do? You've already partly done it, Max.” Jan chuckled before he spoke again. “You’re not looking at us like we’re all crazy.”

“I’m Batman,” Max deadpanned.

Jan chuckled again. “So I understand from Val.” He sobered. “Acceptance of this is hard on a lot of folks. Oh, it's fun and engaging to watch it on TV or read about it in a novel but when you’re confronted with it, most people, regardless of what they have seen, rationalize it away or suppress it so that they might as well have never seen anything.”

He sighed. “At any rate, there are far fewer teachers than there are people who need to be trained so most of what you can learn, you learn by doing. Life around here is about hard work as much as anything because we all try to have regular lives. Adam wasn’t kidding about that. We need them to keep ourselves grounded and remind ourselves why we are doing this at all because for the most part nobody knows what we do and we try very hard to keep it that way."

"I have a lot of practice at not saying anything. Should I put that down on my job application?"

Jan laughed and the act again transformed him into someone oddly handsome for just a moment. "Well, I know you understand the role of a foot soldier and, in a lot of ways, most of the folks who work with MATADA or are affiliated with us are just that. Something needs to be done, we do it. Evan Richards is the Pillar at the moment and I work for him. We assess who of the available personnel would be most effective and out goes the call. We figure out what needs to be done and we do it. We try not to lose anybody and hope we aren't too late. And people do get hurt. We almost lot Andy a little over a year ago – mostly because he was stupid and stubborn," Jan added loudly as Andrew entered the room and sat at the table. Andy just grinned.

Pete joined them a few minutes later. He was calm but there was a slightly harder edge to the normally placid expression. "You ever decide to go after his sire, I want in," he said quietly and helped himself to coffee.

Jan nodded. "I am thinking maybe we’ve let the agreement with New Orleans go on a little too long without checking on it. Nothing coming out of that quarter but that doesn't mean there's nothing going on we shouldn't be looking at," Jan agreed. "How is he?"

Pete sipped at his coffee but there was a definite rise in the color along his neck and ears. "I am assuming you're asking if he's okay and not the other," he said into his cup. "He's okay. Exhausted. Pretty ragged emotionally. I wish we'd gotten to him sooner."

"I tried," Andrew said around a mouthful of grapes. "Couldn't get him off the street before this happened. He’s headstrong."

"You ever get a look at him before?" Jan asked Adam as he sat down at the table.

Adam shook his head. "Nope. But I checked afterwards because I was curious. My guess would be that we lost a Healer," he said. "I can't be sure but word is on the street at one point was that if you were hurting, you went to Val or he would find you."

"That's what we are trying to do, Max,” Jan said. “If we could have gotten to Val sooner, maybe convinced him to work with us, whatever he might have been meant to be could have realized. But we miss more than we catch."

"You might want to go see him," Pete suggested quietly. "He didn't ask but I think he’s feeling pretty alone. He asked to go home but," he glanced out the window, "I don't think we can get him on a plane and back to New Orleans by dawn. Last flight left an hour or so ago. Next one isn't until four this morning; too close."

"You guys are welcome to stay here, Max," Jan offered. "I think Adam and Andrew can get Mr. Everett's truck back to him and then we can get you wherever you need to go during the day or you can borrow the theatre truck. Val will be safe enough here during the day." He glanced at the clock on the microwave. "I need to call Venatti," he murmured and reached for the phone.

Max started at hearing Venatti's name mentioned again, barely stopping from looking around to see if the mention of the name had conjured the man. "You mean...I'm OK?” he asked cautiously. “You're actually gonna do it?"

Jan grinned at him. "Max, you were marked as an 'untouchable' the minute you gave me blanket permission to dive into your psyche. I'd have done it anyway but that let me see what I needed to - mostly that there was a high probability that it would be worth the effort rather than just an exercise."

With a dawning comprehension, Max began to realize that Jan could simply have "looked" for what he wanted, but instead had made Max speak the answers so that he could hear how far the younger man was willing to go - how much of himself he was willing to lay bare in his request to be free. "Why do you do this?" he asked.

"Because everybody deserves a chance and what they do with that chance is up to them. That's half our philosophy, Max. We can't get to all the people who could use our help. But if someone asks, unless there are really extenuating circumstances, we'll help. Now, unless you have a burning desire to say 'ciao' to Mr. Venatti, why don't you go check on Val. And yes, we are going to talk about you behind your back, but you can ask later."

Max crumpled up the paper towel in his hand and lobbed it towards a trash basket that sat at the end of the table. "No, thank you. You can speak to the Don on my behalf."

He started to head out of the room but a thought struck him and he turned around to the men still seated around the table. "Even if Venatti gets the word out tonight, it's going to take a bit of time for it to filter down. What about people who might come looking for me in the meantime? Since I'm going to turn up missing in the Quarter--" He stopped with a shock. He wasn’t going back. It was actually happening. He was changing his entire life. Instead of keeping company with low-level mobsters, dancers and others, he was apparently going to be spending time with guys who talked placidly about topics mostly found in bestselling fantasy novels. "Um...certain people are gonna start looking for me. They'll think I've turned." 

“Sounds like you have some interesting friends, Max,” Andy said around another mouthful of grapes.

“Don’t know that I’d call ‘em friends,” Max replied, shrugging one shoulder.

“That’s where the mark comes in,” Jan interrupted. “Atlanta’s off limits so the only place you might run into them is the airport. I’ll keep it in mind should I ever need you to go somewhere. I won't put you into harm's way if I can help it.”

"I'm going to have to trust you," Max said finally. "Go on, do what you gotta do. Talk about me if you want. I'm going to go see Val. He should definitely stay here 'cause I don't know where the key is to the sub-basement. I'll let you know what I'm going to do after I talk to him."

He found Val lying face down on the bed, face buried in the crook of his elbow. The clothes he had worn were folded neatly on the dresser and the sheets had been changed, but the scent was still in the air, the musky smell of sex and the sharper tang of blood where Val had bled on the floor. Most of it had been cleaned up but there was a small throw rug covering the area where Max had held Val and let him feed. The sheet was pulled up around Val's hips but otherwise he was naked. He lifted his head slightly when Max came in but said nothing.

Tired was not a word Max thought to associate with Val but, at the moment, he looked tired and worn out, and barely the twenty he was when he'd died.

Max quietly shut the door behind him and leaned against the wall. "How do you feel?"

"Okay," Val said, subdued. He turned to lie on his side. "How's...how's your arm?"

"I'm fine. No worries," he said lightly. Max walked slowly over to the bed, avoiding the area where the throw rug covered the bloodstains. "Just been talking to Jan and the other guys. Jan's calling Venatti for me." He made as if to sit down at Val's side.

"I don't need a baby-sitter, Max." Val said evenly and sat up, rubbing his face.

"Too bad, tough guy," Max said. "It's been a long day and I'm tired." Without waiting for a response, he flopped down on the bed right by Val, arms behind his head. "You're staying here by the way."

"I want to go home," Val said like a petulant child. "I've had about all the fun I can take for one night," he said sourly.

Max managed to keep a hold on his temper but it was a near thing. "There's not enough time for you to go back to the Quarter yet. It's two o'clock in the freakin' mornin', Everett!"

The look Val shot Max was surprised and then immediately ashamed. Val dropped his eyes to stare at his knees as he pulled them up to his chest underneath the sheet and wrapped his arms around them. "I'm sorry," he said quietly, sounding beaten down and miserable. "I know I asked for this and that everyone is trying to help." He hesitated for a long moment and then lifted his eyes to Max’s face. "I'm sorry about the....I didn't want to mean to make you feel those things. I didn't want to hurt you."

"It’s okay,” Max said gruffly. The memory of being somehow _told_ to feel those things through Val’s feedings still made his guts twist in a knot but he fought it down. He concentrated on the feel of the cotton pillowcase underneath his hand and let that normal feeling wash away the unrest.

"God, I miss Tevis," Val said, almost choking on the words like they had been wrenched from him.

"I know you love him but...he's so tied up with Madeleine and all her shit, are you honestly sure he loves you the same?"

"It doesn't matter," Val said harshly. "He does...he _does_ love me. But the blood bond takes precedence and I know that. Why is that so fucking hard for you to understand?” he snapped.

"I'm sorry!" Max protested. Why was he even asking this kind of stuff? It wasn’t like he and Val were anything like that with each other. “I just…” _It’s not right. You should have someone who loves you…_ He halted the train of thought.  "Do you love him because of him or are you trying to save him like you couldn’t save Marcus?”

Val stared at him in shock, eyes wide and face stricken as if Max had slapped him. "Fuck you!" he hissed softly. He got out of bed and grabbed for his jeans. "You don't understand anything!" he said as he pulled the pants on with a savage jerk.

"I spent four years alone after that asshole brought me over, Max; alone like you can't imagine. There were no other vampires and no one knew what I was. I couldn't let them know. Then I came to New Orleans. I had no idea what I was walking into and what do I find?” he spat. “More vampires. No, I don't trust Madeleine any more than you do. And maybe I shouldn’t trust Tevis, either. But there I was, wondering what I’d gotten myself into, and Tevis walks into my room and offers..." he whispered. "He just offered whatever I wanted…needed. He stayed with me even though he knew what I was.”

Val scrubbed at his face and crimson-tinged liquid stained his hands. “Maybe he doesn’t love me the same way I love him. Maybe he can’t because of Maddie. But he touches me. He loves me as much as he can and…that’s enough anymore. No matter what he’s doing, I’m his any way he wants me, any time he can give me for as long as he can,” Val said, leaving off that it also largely depended on how long Maddie decided to make the leashes for either of her pets. He dropped down on his knees next to the bed. “I just…I want…”

Max went over and kneeled in front of Val. “I’m sorry,” he whispered and brought up a hand to touch Val’s face. When Val looked at him, Max cupped his hand against Val’s cheek. “I’m sorry,” he said again. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

Val stared at Max and then slowly brought up his hand to cover Max’s but not to pull it away. Instead, he wrapped his fingers around Max’s and his gaze lost the harsh edge of anger and turned into something softer. Max found himself caressing Val’s face with his thumb. “I just want…” he started and stopped, swallowing as his breath seemed to catch. Val leaned in, mouth opened as if to whisper something important only for Max to hear.

There was a rap on the door and it opened to reveal Adam with an anxious expression on his face and Andrew right behind him. "What happened?" Adam asked.

Both men looked up at Andrew and Adam with expressions on their faces that spoke volumes but answered nearly simultaneously. "Nothing."  Val slowly disengaged his hand from Max’s and Max dropped his hand to his thigh.

“Really.”

"I..." _Fuck._ "I asked him about Tevis,” Max said when it appeared neither man was leaving until they got a more complete answer.

"You did what?" Andrew asked. "The next time you decide to fly without a net, would you mind letting someone know?"

His head was starting to feel crowded with too much information and too many voices and they were all clamoring for his attention along with the presence of the three other people in the room.  _Stop already.  I know I'm a fuckup_ , he told the voices.

Max stood up. His balance felt off but he made himself shake off the odd feeling of being lightheaded. "I'm outta here."

“Max…” Val said from his position still on the floor.

"Probably a good idea for now," Adam said as he slipped into the room and crouched in front of Val. "Andrew, why don’t you and Max go find Jan?"

"No," Val said dully. "He didn't mean anything. It was a fair question.” He pulled himself up to sit on the bed. “When I feed on Tevis, I’m alive for a little while. That’s the answer, Max. It’s the best I can hope for.”

"Not true." Adam said, quietly and glanced at Andrew. Without a word, Andrew pulled on Max's sleeve and guided him out of the room. When he got there, Pete glanced up at him without any expression at all and Jan was sitting on the coffee table looking at him thoughtfully.

"One question," Jan said finally. "Do you love him?"

Max sat in the chair opposite Jan more from a feeling that he was supposed to rather than actually wanting to sit. He shoved both hands into his pockets and stuck his long legs out in front of him, seemingly absorbed in the left toe of his shoe and trying to look anywhere but at Jan. His stomach felt hollow. He bit the inside of his lip hard, then ran his tongue along the miniscule skin flap that resulted; the sting made his eyes prick with tears momentarily. "Yes," he said finally, still looking at the ground. He hoped Jan didn't press it much farther. Max had absolutely no idea what to say next.

"Does it scare you to feel this way about him?"

He nodded dumbly after a moment, bringing his leg and crossing it over his knee to begin worrying at the hole in the canvas. " 'bout anybody," Max said to his foot. "It’s…uh…it’s never really worked out real well for me."

Jan nodded. "Convenient excuse," he said evenly. "Same one Val is using. No wonder you two are friends. I could ask you if you are scared by Val loving you but I think I know what the answer is. I could ask if it’s because he is a guy or a vampire or just because you think you don't deserve it but I'm not going to. I already know the answer to that one too. Been there, done that. So have you and you keep going back to it because it's familiar - just like you keep craving the drugs. God, what I would give for a bottle of Jack Daniels and a line of coke some days," Jan said with a sigh, then looked at Max again. "But all they do is dull the pain. They don’t get rid of it."

Max didn't respond. Couldn’t. It felt as though Jan were sitting there and simply spreading out the contents of his soul for anyone who wanted a peek.

"I don't know who you are trying to test here, Max. Yourself, us, Val or some combination. But you don't get it, do you?" Jan said softly. "There is no obligation to us, Max. Never will be. Our deal was with you - not you and Val. Your decisions are yours and Val’s are his. The only difference is that when you become responsible for your own messes when you play in my backyard. The choice right now for you is what are you going to do next?"

The words and the tone he used filled Max with a sense of foreboding. "What do you mean?" He jerked his head up to stare at Jan. "I've already fucked up. You want to know what I'm going to do now? You want an  _encore_?"

"I need to know because it very much affects what I am going to do next,” Jan told him. “I have a vampire in the other room who is trying to cut himself off because it's the only way he knows how to keep from bleeding to death. You didn't do it, Max. You don't get to claim the guilt for this one. He's been looking for an excuse since he got here and I promised I wouldn't let him do more damage.” Jan sighed and cast a look up the stairs before turning his attention back to Max. “He knew I wouldn’t back down. Now all he’s trying to do is stifle his fear long enough to put me in a position where I have no choice but to act.” Jan switched his attention to Andrew. "And you should be keeping an eye on your partner."

Pain like a thousand shards of glass lanced through Max. Now he understood what Val, Hugh Everett and other people had been trying to say. It didn't matter where he'd been, who he'd been or what he'd done. What mattered was what he was going to do from this point on. And right now, at this point, he had to fix the wound he'd just opened in his best friend. "What happens now?"

"If Adam can't get through to him, I am not going to waste either the time or energy to tag him all the way to New Orleans only to have to follow him when he is among people he doesn't care about. If Val is prepared to live and die by the consequences of his actions, I’m prepared to play my part, Max," Jan said flatly and got up. The interview was apparently over.

Max rocketed up out of his seat as Jan unfolded himself. "Wait a minute! Let me talk to him!"

"Not yours to fix. Not anymore," Jan said. "Get this, Max, if you get nothing else," he said more gently. "I am not angry with you. I’m not blaming you for this. Val is looking for an excuse and he has been for a while. You’re not exactly in the best mental or emotional shape yourself right now and-- "

"Please!" Max broke in. He couldn't be the one to do this to Val. They were friends. They were Batman and Robin. Batman didn't do Robin wrong and then leave Robin to twist in the wind. "I swear to God I won't ask any stupid questions." He whirled his head around to look at Andrew. "You can watch me. If I start to, just tell me to shut the fuck up."

Both men stood there watching him, seemingly implacable. Taking a deep breath, Max tried to calm himself enough to give order to the words he wanted to say. "I can't reject someone who's...who's a part of me. I didn't reject him. I just didn't understand how or what he felt about Tevis...or me. But I get it now. I need to tell him that."

The door to the bedroom opened and Val came out. He was dressed and looked calm. He even had a faint smile on his face. But, behind him, Adam met Jan's eyes and shook his head slightly and shrugged.

"I appreciate the offer to stay, Jan, but it's not that late and getting to the airport will be easier from the hotel. So, Andy, if you could give me a lift, I'd appreciate it," Val said. He sounded perfectly reasonable and looked totally relaxed as he turned to Max. "Up to you, bud. You want to stay here, go back to the hotel or back to my folks? If we don't go back to the house I need to get the truck back to dad some way," Val said, chewing on his lower lip as if trying to think of a method. "Or you could take the truck back and I can send a cab for you. Either one."

"You may as well stay here, Val--" Jan began.

Val smiled that perfect, meaningless smile. "Jan, you have one bed and the sofa doesn't look all that comfortable. That’s nuts when Max and I have a perfectly good hotel room. It's okay. Really, I'm fine. Just a little much for one night," he said with a rough chuckle. "Although, between all of you, I probably won't need to feed for a week. God, it will be like having a vacation!" he laughed. He seemed to note that Max wasn’t laughing with him. “Don’t sweat it, Griffin," he said more quietly. "You didn't mean anything. No harm, no foul."

_Tell me another, Everett._ Max had lived among bullshit artists for years. This was a good shot but he wasn't buying it.

"Andy?" Val asked again. The big man nodded and picked up his keys.

"Give me a second, Andrew. I need to talk to Jan," Adam said.

"Come on, Max. Let’s go before we wear out our welcome," Val said

"No," Max said firmly. He glanced at the clock. 2:20 or so. _Still time._ "Wait, Val. I am sweating it." He looked at Jan, trying to ask permission with the look on his face. After a moment, he seemed to get it. "Gimme five...ten minutes tops," he said. "C'mon, Everett. After that, we can go wherever the hell you want." His hands, stuffed into his jeans pockets, were sweating.

"Max...Batman. It's okay. What can I say? I get a little overfed and I'm like a girl with PMS - a little emotional. No sweat." Val said, smiling brightly for Max's sake and pushing past him toward the door.

_Fuckfuckfuck!_ If he let Val get out that door, it was over. Max didn't know how he knew that but he did. The Val that walked and talked with him would look exactly like the Val he'd come to know and call his friend except there would be one critical difference. The Val he was looking at now was preparing to drown himself in all the self-hatred he'd been storing up since being turned, all the regret and sorrow at his mistakes. This Val was preparing to kill himself and Max had handed him the key to open the door to that possibility. Somehow, some way, he needed to get Val to lock up those feelings again and get back to being the Val who wanted to be alive in whatever way he could be.

As he desperately tried to think of the words to say, Max remembered the colored ties between he and Val that he had been shown and he tried to visualize that, hoping he could will something - _anything_ \- across the gap that seemed to be widening between the two of them. 

He thought he saw Andy give him a nod and sucked in a breath. No more time to think.

"Look, I think everyone here would probably agree that I'm relationally retarded," Max said and he saw Andy, standing behind Val with his keys still in his hand, quirk his mouth into a grin. "You know most of the whole shitty tale of my past so I'm going to spare you the recap of our last episode." Shit, if this was flying without a net, Max figured he was due to become nothing more than a greasy spot on the ground in about the next sixty seconds if he didn't figure out how to reach Val. He tried again. "But you know it tends to stick once I get something, right?"

Turning around, Val looked at him and Max could see his friend's face was still and the false smile was gone. "Get to the point, Max. I've had about all I can take for one night."

"I'm trying. Just hang on, homeboy. Um..." God, where was he going? "One night, I'm runnin' from the Feds across rooftops and I run into a vampire who saves my ass. Now, this vampire...there's somethin' about him that draws me back to him. I even get myself busted up in a street fight trying to make sure he keeps his pretty little fangs intact." Max exhaled shakily and headed into the crux of his monologue. "From the moment I met you, Val, you kept tryin' to tell me I was worth something. And I'm telling you that you're right. I get it now." The picture of the green-gold tendrils popped up again and Max tried to visualize them wrapping around Val; around his wrists, his body.

His heart.

He could feel nervous energy making him jittery and he moved closer to Val, trying to gauge if he was getting any reaction at all. He couldn't tell anything except Val hadn't walked out the door yet. If that was the only indication Max had that he might be getting through, he'd take it.

"We started out as friends but I think of you as my brother now. You know that. I told you that. And all the stuff you've shown me and done for me...you and your family. I get it now. There isn't any debt between us - there really never was except what you or I thought we owed each other. If you love someone, what you do for them is not an obligation and doesn't need to be paid back. People do things for you because they think the other person is worth it and not necessarily because they can get something in return. What I've been doesn't matter to you nearly as much as what I can be."

Val said nothing, just stared over Max's shoulder. His body was tensed as if he wanted to run but Max's words had him pinned to the door.

"I didn't understand that when I asked what I did in the bedroom. And I'm sorry. It wasn't my...my right to question the things or the people you love. If Tevis...if you love him, then that's what it is. And it's good because it makes you happy."

"Please stop," Val whispered, still looking through Max and not at him. His hands tightened into fists as if he was trying to quell the urge to touch Max.

He was so close to Val right now he could have felt the vampire's breath on his face if that were still possible. "You love him. I get that. And, uh, you love me, too," Max said. "And...and..." He'd said it once. Why was it so hard now? "I meant what I said. I love you too."

"Don't," Val said. "You can't. I can't be your brother. I can't be anyone's son. I am what you saw and that's all I can be. Like Jan said, no matter how hard I try, the Hunger will win."

"That's not what I said, Val," Jan said quietly, "Nor what I meant. I said you were losing ground. But it's because you are cutting yourself off from people who love you. People who care about you. You lose those links and you _will_ lose. Eventually. It doesn't mean you will become a deranged killer or even that you will attack your family but it does mean you won't be so discriminating. Believe it or not, Val, there are a lot of things out there that are even less human than you are. I am not entirely free of that influence myself."

"I can't," Val said in a pleading tone. "I know what happened on the roof, Max, only my ladder doesn't have a bottom. At least not that I can see. What do I do when you are gone? When my family is dead and buried? When Tevis is..."

Max started at the feel of someone's hand on his shoulder and he risked a quick glance to see Adam standing behind him. Another hand touched his, fingers encircling his wrist and he realized it was Jan. The strange feeling of falling away rose up again and the altered vision he'd previously experienced sprang up, almost breaking Max's concentration both from the strangeness of it and the realization that what he saw this time was different than before..

Instead of the thick tendrils of connection between him and Val, there were now just weak lines that cast themselves out and fell away from the shadow that was Val in this reality. Instead of attaching and drawing Val closer, the colors disappeared into what Max could only classify as a darkness, a void; empty and lonely and impossible to see through.

Obeying an instinct, Max reached out and touched Val's face. Now he could see his own aura flaring, a soft dispersal of green and yellow that seemed to be looking for a point of purchase, only Val kept pushing it away like one would brush at an annoying insect. Max watched the colors latch on for a brief moment and he felt Val tremble slightly before they fell away.

_He's not drawing on you any longer -- just his own strength and it's waning._  The words in his head weren't spoken; rather, they were impressions...interpretations but whether they were from Adam or Jan or even himself, Max couldn't begin to guess. He found himself willing their connection back into place, giving it back rather than waiting for Val to take it, offering it regardless of the outcome or the cost.

"Let me go," Val said, still unmoving. He sounded tired. "Let it be over."

"No way," Max said softly. "You didn't let me go until I got it. Now it's your turn." He moved his hand from where it touched Val's face until it was resting on the back of Val's neck, curving it to fit snugly and moving forward a bit more until their foreheads were touching, imitating their previous contact. "Don't push me away," he whispered. "Please, Val." With his other hand, he brushed at the remainder of the blood-tinged tears that had dried on the other man's face. He wasn't sure of what he was doing, only that it was important not to lose physical contact

He thought he saw one small green and yellow tendril latch on and hold for a few seconds before falling away again and it gave him an idea. He didn't know if it would work or would even be something he could do. Looking past Val's physical body, he could see the colors of his own aura once again. He concentrated on the strand, trying to reach out towards it with his mind and will the damn thing to be thicker or stronger. It brushed against the darkness of Val once more and seemed to grab hold. When it did, Max pulled Val into his arms before the surprised vampire could react, holding him tightly and burying his face in Val's neck.

"I need you, you idiot. Your family needs you. Our family needs us." Max knew he didn't have much more than seconds before Val's greater strength would break the hold so, quickly, before he could think about it, much beyond the half-formed idea that he had started with, he kissed Val. It was the only way Max could think of to try and show Val how much he meant to Max.

The brush of Max's lips against his own was a shock and then a welcome warmth. It was just a kiss, not a demand or a promise. Rather, it was solidity and comfort; the assurance of a safe place. He shifted his gaze in his surprise and met the worried green eyes. Max's hands were framing his face and he was closer than Val had realized. He had barely noticed Max had moved until he felt the warm, calloused hands on his skin. "Only queers and Italians kiss other men on the mouths. You aren't either," he said before he even thought about it and saw Max smile, just a little.

It took more effort to hold back than it did to let go and fall into that assurance. Val leaned forward into Max's embrace and felt the other man's arms shift around him.

"Val, I have no idea to what do if a vampire faints. So if you'd try to avoid that, I'd be grateful," Jan said.

Before Adam and Jan dropped their hands, Max caught the barest glimmer of the ties between him and Val resurging and strengthening. Then, there was only exhaustion and the feel of Val pressed up against them, and he found himself hard-put to keep both of them upright. When hands touched him again, he let them lead both him and Val back into the bedroom where they nearly fell on the bed. Max thought he heard someone say his name but then sleep - or unconsciousness - pulled him back into the dark.

"God, I wish I had a camera," Adam said quietly to Andrew.

"Historic moment?" Andrew asked with a chuckle.

Adam smirked, rubbing a weary hand across his face. "Blackmail," he said.

Andrew brushed a kiss along Adam's temple, resting an arm around his friend's shoulders. "Does this feel like deja vu or what?"

"Scary thought," Adam said and patted Andrew's hand before pulling away, seeing that green and yellow band twining between the two young men once more.

Not unlike the one that had bound him to Andrew for the last twenty years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an independent work based on the concept of the Kindred from the White Wolf World of Darkness Role-Playing Game and Novels. The concept of Immortality and the Game as presented here are the property of Gregory Widen and Panzer/Davis Productions, as are the characters of Duncan MacLeod and Methos (among others.) The Lattice characters and concepts appear here by permission of V. Watts and M. Snowden. All other characters and concepts are the property and creation of thewildmole and V. Watts.
> 
> Maygra and I originally began this saga way back in the dark reaches of the 1990's. We might have called this When Worlds Collide because it is a collision of sorts. Take a World of Darkness RPG, a healthy dose of the original universe set out in Lattice (by Snowden and Watts) and toss in two young men trying to make sense of the world around them, the balances between Chaos and Order, and the need to hold onto their own souls and you have Twin Sons and Different Brothers. Max and Val met by accident -- not unlike their creators. Maygra and I have enjoyed a long friendship apart from this collaboration but it would have never originally happened without this story. Having some time on my hands, I (thewildmole) decided to edit the original work and repost it (something Maygra is fine with). ...
> 
> We warn you now that the language is frequently harsh and the situations harsher. (Rated NC17 for violence, language and sexual situations.) The NPC Characters of Tevis, Madeleine, Crispin and assorted other vampires and inhabitants of New Orleans, belong to original World of Darkness RPG Game Mistress and Goddess Meg Wittenmyer (I think we have her permission.)
> 
> Warning: The following story may be rated G, PG, R, NC17 or even X. It may contain graphic depictions of sex between men or between men and women. I can pretty much guarantee there won't be any sex between people and animals...but nothing is ever 100%. Vampires, Immortals, Jedi and other anomolies are fair game though. There may be violence, graphic violence, nudity, bad language or adult themes. There may be non-consensual sex, rape, partner rape, hurt/comfort, and mental anguish. There may be torture, sadism, masochism, bondage, or bad verb conjugations. There may be death, there may be a major character death. The ending may be happy or it may be really depressing. There may be much affection, cuddling and kissing. There may be an uneasy resolution. Over-the-topness is not guaranteed but is highly probable. There may even be a plot. Or, there may be none of those things. You have been warned.This material may not be copied or distributed without permission--we intend no copyright infringement, make no profit and promise to share. Welcome to the darkside of the soap opera. Comments may be be sent to thewildmole@gmail.com and maygra@bellsouth.net


	12. Soul Visitation Rights

Max woke up the next day and immediately regretted it as thousands of dwarves with big anvils began pounding merrily on his brain. It hurt just to open his eyes. When he finally managed to disengage himself from Val and sit up, he had to fight the urge to throw up.

On his second try, he managed to stand and sway only slightly before squinting in order to see the door. He managed to make it out the bedroom door and tried to remember the way back to the living area. Blurry vision and a pounding headache did not help his sense of direction and Max caught his toe on the edge of something and went down to his hands and knees with a loud thump. He was dimly aware now that his kneecaps were also pissed off as hell at him as he tried to right himself. "Shit!" Much as he liked down better than up right now, he needed aspirin and he was really hungry.

"Good day to you, Mr. Griffin."

Max pulled himself up to a squatting position and blinked until his vision began to clear. "Hi, Jan. What the hell time is it?"

"It’s a little after ten in the morning." Jan shook his head in amused resignation as he got up to help Max. Disorientation was one thing he understood very well and Max looked like he was none too sure which planet he was on never mind the time or day of the week.

"I don't suppose you have any industrial strength aspirin around?" Max asked hopefully. "And I could eat a horse. Not," he corrected quickly, "that that's any type of culinary suggestion."

"Horse is good when it’s done properly.”

Turning his head slowly so as not to unbalance the elephant tap dancing on his skull, Max realized the speaker was Pete Oakes and what he’d fallen over was Pete in a sleeping bag. “I promise,” Pete added. He propped himself up on one elbow. "How's your bed partner?" he asked with a sly grin.

"Val's dead. Lucky guy," he added as an afterthought as he massaged the back of his neck. By now he had managed to stand up again and was watching Jan. The guy had slept on the couch and he looked completely unruffled..

Jan walked over to the kitchen and pulled out juice and the remains of the covered up sandwiches and fruit. "Why don't you try eating something first and the headache will go away.  Drugs – even aspirin – are not necessarily a good thing for what ails you at the moment. But you seem cheerful enough--"

"Too cheerful for this early in the morning," Pete groaned and kicked his way out of the sleeping bag. He was wearing a pair of boxer shorts and nothing else as he grabbed at his clothes. "I am going to use up all the hot water," he warned and headed for the bathroom.

"Hey!" Max yelped. "Better leave me some," he threatened with a mouthful of sandwich. He'd gone through three of them when he noticed Jan watching him and holding a carton of juice. "I'm chewing," he said. "I swear."

Jan set a large glass of juice in front of Max and started the coffee. Like Pete, he wasn't wearing much, just a pair of sweatpants was all and as Max drank he had to keep from not staring. Jan was very thin. There was muscle overlaying the bone but not much body fat. He was all angles and hard planes and a long pale scar ran from his left shoulder to the inside of his elbow, still bearing the marks of what had to be over a hundred stitches.

Jan caught Max’s eye. “Not so dramatic as yours, I’m afraid. A batten fell when I was rigging lights about fifteen years ago. You were lucky to have survived yours, Max," he said, then grinned at him. "Hopefully, you’re beginning to realize that."

Max shrugged. On the rare occasions he let himself think about the changes to his body, “luck” was generally not one of the adjectives that came to his mind. He didn’t say anything, though. He had a feeling that Jan already knew that and didn’t want to open himself up to any more confessionals right now.

Jan dug around in a drawer and came up with a staple gun. "Gonna tack down the curtains in the bedroom, just in case. I would hate to find a toasted vampire in my bed. Keep eating and make sure to drink a lot.” He disappeared into the bedroom and a few minutes later Max could hear the staple gun pounding away. When Jan re-emerged, he was carrying clothes, including Val’s, and dumped them into a washing machine tucked into an alcove. As Max watched, Jan started the wash cycle and then grinned like an idiot when he heard Pete holler.

"Washing clothes!" he yelled.

"Asshole!" Pete shot back.

Jan was still laughing when he rejoined Max. He had put on clean jeans and was shrugging into a work shirt. He laid another set of clothes on the counter. "I’m a little taller than you so the pants will be too long but you can wear 'em while we wash yours or you can wait until we can get your stuff from the hotel. Andy called Mr. Everett this morning to tell him where you two were and Pete took the truck over about six this morning. I think they’re planning to take you two to the airport tonight."

"Thanks," Max said, sitting back. If he wasn't careful, he was going to inhale that entire tray. "I'm sorry to put you guys to so much trouble."

Jan smiled at him a little wryly. "Well, things are either dead as the proverbial vampire in the bedroom around here or jumping like kangaroos. Don't worry about it and you are welcome."

 _Airport._ That meant New Orleans. Max looked down at the condensation rings his glass was making on the table, picking up and moving the glass to make a pattern. "Last night you talked about helping me find a job and a place to stay. Is that option still open?"

The other man nodded and poured out three cups of coffee, pushing one at Max as well as cream and sugar; a single spoon of sugar went into his own cup. "It will be pretty easy. Internships are over until the next round this summer and that’s about a month or so away. There are three or four empty rooms in the wing behind the main stage. Rooms are dorm style with a community kitchen. It’s one bathroom per two rooms.”

Jan paused to take a sip of coffee. “We have two sets loading in over the next two weeks and I know Pete has shit that needs to be done. We pay fifteen an hour for casual labor and we are shy on help right now – usually are this time of year. It’s long days and late hours; not a lot of cash but the room is yours for nothing until you can either find work, or if Pete says yes, we have a staff position open for the summer. He'll be busy with the interns when they get here and the building still has to be taken care of.”

Max nodded. “OK. What about…” He sighed. “I’m not exactly an upstanding, tax-paying citizen.”

Jan gave him that wide smile again that made Max feel like he was in on some joke between the two of them. “Dodged Uncle Sam or two a time myself. We use education grants for the internships. Just because you may not pay taxes doesn’t mean we can’t make those tax dollars work for you.

If you can pick up side work from Mr. Everett, feel free, and just let Pete know when you are available. But Atlanta has a pretty healthy economy right now -- lots of jobs, including club work if you prefer it. You got loose ends you need to clean up in New Orleans?"

"No, I don't have much there. Just a job in a bar that anyone can do. I did have a girlfriend..." Max shook his head to get rid of the image of Yvette. "Somehow I don't think she'll miss me too much after a while."

"I take it you’re staying in Atlanta, then?" Jan asked, sipping his coffee.

Max studied the pattern he'd made with the bottom of his glass. He hadn't actually thought about it as concretely as Jan had just stated it but he knew that was where his thoughts had been going ever since he'd talked to Tree on the porch. As he continued to mull over his answer, he realized Val's questions had all been about Max staying here - almost as if he'd planned for it.

He filed that thought away for later and looked over to Jan. "Yeah," he said finally. "I think I am."

"Okay," Jan said. "Let's work with making that happen for now. You've had a pretty big shock as it is although I will admit you've handled it better than most. Still, middle ground is nice for a breather every now and then. You also may want some time to figure out what you do want before you launch into anything more. I don't see a lot of ego in you which is a good thing but, at the same time, you deserve to let it grow a little and getting a job and your feet under you might help with that," he added. "Adam is very much aware of that part of the process as he reminded me last night. You and he have a lot in common."

Now Max was curious. "So what did you guys say about me behind my back?"

Jan chuckled but his smile was kind. "Be really careful what you ask, Max. You may not always like the answer." He took a sip of coffee before he replied. "Mostly - and we didn't really have time to say much - our instincts are you have a pretty healthy survival imperative which is a good thing. But that ego thing I mentioned means you can be pushed too far because you're trying to prove something whether to yourself or someone else. You recovered nicely last night, Max, but I wasn't kidding about how mistakes can cost. We need you to think as well as feel."

Pete was out of the shower before Max could respond. "I saved you thirty seconds of hot water if you want it," he called out.

Max stood up. "You're a prince among men," he called back and grabbed the spare clothes. In the shower, he tried not to think about what it was going to be like at the airport when he stayed and Val returned alone to New Orleans. He was less than successful.

He toweled off and dressed. Returning to the kitchen, he asked, "Can someone show me what I'd be doing?" Activity was generally a good - and approved - way to not think about things he'd rather not.

"God, I love them when they are eager!" Pete said with a grin. "Yeah, I'll give you the fifty cent tour." He held open the door with a theatrical flourish and led the way down the single flight of stairs.

"We're an Equity house with a special waiver," Pete started out, "which means we work and pay to union scale. Usually have Mondays off. But we also have an educational grant which means we have sliding scale for students and can hire non-union crew and actors. It gets a little hairy sometimes but that's Jan's job - not mine." He waved a hand in the air. "Third floor here is all offices and classrooms and design studios, and the secured properties storage. There are stairs at either end and elevators but the only way to Jan's apartment is by the stairs. And just so you know," he said as they neared the far stairs. "Jan's apartment is usually off-limits. Don't worry about it for now. He's as hospitable as they come but the man lives, works and sleeps in this complex and needs his privacy more than most."

"Noted." Max thought over what Pete had just said. "Classrooms? What for? Dancers and actors don't have to go to school."

Giving him a sideways look, Pete took a deep breath. "No, don't have to but most do. I have a Master's degree in Set Design and most actors I know have either a degree in performing arts or theatre; kind of depends on what you want to do. Best thing about this profession is it's still one of the few where you can still work through the ranks and experience counts for a lot. This is a tough line of work both on bodies and on egos. Education can get you an edge."

"What if..." Max paused and then finished in a rush. "Never finished high school. What if I got my GED?"

"Be a step in the right direction, Max. Can't hurt you, might help somewhere along the way," Pete said. When Max didn't seem inclined to continue the topic, he said, "On with the tour."

"We run eleven months out of the year. No shows in December but we still work. We have a shared contract with the Alliance Theatre downtown to put on a Christmas show. There are four main stage productions a year and they get a minimum five-week run but they get if the show is popular - or we may remount it elsewhere."

The second floor was mostly rehearsal halls. There were two exclusively for dance complete with mirrored walls and side rails as well as stereo equipment and mats. There were changing rooms at either ends of the hall and a staff conference room at the end of the hall under Jan's apartment. The ground floor housed the main stage and two smaller ones with the smaller stages used for rehearsal, dance, new works or pieces in development. The scene and costume shop and storage was directly behind the main stage and at the front of the building was a small cafe restaurant.

"Mike and Sheila Ramsey run it. Where there are actors, there is food and lots and lots of coffee," Pete grinned. "Dance company is on tour for another three weeks so nothing there but we are loading in a new show in a week and a second one the week after in the studio. You don't need to know much more than how to wield a hammer and tote set pieces. And that, my man, is that for the tour," he said. "What I want to know now is what you can do."

"Jack of all trades," Max summed up. "I was a carny for several years and you learn how to work miracles with spit and baling wire. Worked some construction in the off season." He turned around in a circle to take another look at the theatre. "Although I'm gonna guess you've got some pretty fancy baling wire."

"Not here," Pete laughed. "Picks up light. Around here everything gets fixed with duct tape and hot glue."

Max looked at his watch. "Any chance we could go pick up Val's and my stuff from the motel? Better do it now and get...everything ready." When Pete nodded, Max followed him out and waited while he got his car keys.

"So what do you think?" Pete asked as he unlocked the doors. "I caught about half of what went on last night. Most of what I got seemed to indicate a rough life, not many options for where you sat. How do you feel about all the changes?"

"I don't know. There seem to be more options than I thought and options aren't such a bad thing." Max gave a wry laugh and sat down, closing the passenger door behind him. "I'm not too sure about you guys, though. Hell, I've talked more about me in the last 24 hours than I have in the last ten years."

Pete chuckled as he started the car. "That has a way of happening around here during an interview with Jan."

Max watched the scenery for a moment. "How deep does this Pillars thing go?" he finally asked.

Pete appeared to think about his answer for a moment. "Not everyone who works at MATADA is involved in or knows about the Pillars or about half the shit that went on last night. It's not for general advertisement. Jan will let you know who you can approach with questions but the general rule is watch and ask questions later. Adam and Andrew are here a lot but they don't work here unless Adam has a Saturday that he wants to spend rigging lights or knocking together flats. If you have questions ask them or me who you can talk to if you aren't sure."

Max nodded. He'd had a good amount of practice at keeping silent.

By this time, they'd pulled up in front of the hotel. "Nice digs," Pete said, impressed. "Heck, if I'd known this, I would have stayed here last night instead of on Jan's floor! Although I much prefer your bed partner to mine last night," he teased. "It's good that you two are tight."

"Yeah." The word trailed off and they rode the elevator in silence. Once in the room, Max looked at their belongings. Only some of them would be on the plane tonight. "I hope I'm doing the right thing," he mumbled to himself.

"So you're sure about this?" Pete asked. "Val's going back to New Orleans alone?"

"Yeah," Max said shortly as he threw his belongings into his small bag and took a few minutes more time to fold Val's clothe and put them in the other man's carryon. "I'm just trying not to think about it right now, okay?" Max motioned for Pete to leave ahead of him and they went back downstairs where Max turned in the room keys. After putting the bags in the trunk, they got back in the car and Pete pulled back out into traffic.

They were back at MATADA within thirty minutes. Pete took him to the dorm rooms to let him pick out one. They weren't fancy but they were roomy enough with a bed and desk and dresser, bookshelves and a closet, single chair with a footstool.

"We get a lot of donations," Pete explained. "Some of it goes into set dressing, some ends up here or elsewhere in the building. Everything Jan has pretty much came from donations, but the man has no taste," Pete said with a chuckle. "There is a washer and a dryer in the common room and if you need sheets and blankets and stuff, let me know." He looked at his watch. "Let me drop you back at Jan's so he knows we're back. I'm going to go grab some lunch and bring it back here."

When they returned to the apartment, Jan was bent over a series of drawings at the table that served as his desk, stereo playing some instrumental piece that sounded like a mix of African and Latin. He looked up when the two men entered.

"Mexican?" Pete asked and Jan nodded.

Pete ducked out and Jan offered Max something to drink before joining him at the table. "Getting acclimated?" he asked

"Kind of," Max told him. "It's like being in a country where I don't speak the language. I suppose it'll get easier, though. I hope it will - I'd really like to know where the bathroom is."

Jan laughed and then sobered. "I wanted to ask you something. I'll talk to Val as well when he rejoins us, but...what do you know about the blood bond -- like the one his lover is under?"

"Not much," Max admitted. "Jan, my first time I even saw a vampire was when one of 'em jumped me behind the Flamingo 'cause he thought I got off on being a meal. Next instance was when my ex-girlfriend showed up at my door at two in the morning and asked for my help, telling me she was a vampire. I told her to prove it by showing me her fangs - which she promptly did. Scared the shit outta me."

"Probably would have me too," Jan said with a grin. "Why'd she come to you?"

He shrugged. "She needed help. The guy that made her disappeared and she didn't know how to feed or anything so I took her to the Flamingo so she could find someone to show her the ropes. Vampires in the Quarter seem to be divided into different...groups and the Flamingo is kind of like neutral ground. The blood bond thing? It ties you to that person in a way that only the initiator can break." Max tried to think back on the few conversations he had had with Val and Yvette. "It's like...you'd do anything for that person or you at least have to do what they tell you even if you'd rather kill them." He stopped. "Why?"

"I am seriously considering sending someone to New Orleans for a lot of reasons, including just to scope things out. I'd like to have Val's help if I can get it but I don't want to put him in a position that could be more dangerous than the one he's in now. But I would like to find out more about the blood bond and how it works; maybe send Adam to see what he can find out."

"He should go to the Blue Flamingo, then. That's where they hang out - a lot of 'em at any rate," Max temporized, seeing a look on Jan's face he couldn't quite figure out. "Madeleine's pretty high up from the little I know. Her cousin, Anis, is some kind of royalty. She runs the show. Others don't like it but nobody's made a move as of yet."

"I am vaguely aware of their societal structure. We have an...agreement, if you like, similar to the one with the Mob. Don't mess with us and we won't mess with you. The names, though...didn't have those, so thanks. I'll keep them in mind for future reference." He paused and tapped a finger to his chin. "Evan will probably know more," he said quietly as if reminding himself to check on that.

After a moment, Jan seemed to recollect Max was still there and looked directly at him. "I need to get these designs done in time for a staff meeting tomorrow, so I am going to let you entertain yourself for awhile," Jan said. "Feel free to wander around or get settled in your room. Andy said he would be by about five-thirty or so. I think he's planning to give you a lift to the Everetts."

Max thanked Jan, excused himself and wandered around for a few minutes before finding Pete and offering his assistance. He had given brief thought to going to his new room but didn't want to sit in there alone since he knew it would make him start thinking about having to say goodbye this evening. He worked alongside Pete for a few hours until he started to yawn; his body clock was still used to being up all night and sleeping the majority of the day. When Pete caught him almost nodding off while standing up, he laughed and told Max to take a hike, he'd see him later. Released, Max made his way quietly back up into Jan's living area and thought he managed to get back into the bedroom without disturbing the man. Val was still out so Max sat down and pulled off his shoes before lying down next to his friend.  _Screw it_ , he thought, rolling over and pulling Val next to him. He wrapped one arm around Val's chest and closed his eyes.

The next thing he was aware of was someone telling him he needed to get up. His fuzzy brain couldn't place the voice. "Dammit, Yvette," Max mumbled. "Five more minutes, cher. Unless you wanna make it worth my while to stay longer."

"I could but I don't want to spoil you for Theresa," came a throaty chuckle that was right by his ear, teasingly seductive...and definitely male. "Come on, Batman. Night's a-wasting," Val said, but he made no move to pull away from Max's arms.

That had been welcome and he wondered if Max had done it consciously or unconsciously after his tirade the night before deciding it didn't matter. Going into or coming out of his death always terrified Val. There was that horrible, devastating moment that he knew he was dead before his conscious brain took over and convince him he wasn't. Still, for one brief moment at every sunrise and sunset, he knew the reality of his own dead body. Having someone warm and alive next to him made the feeling disappear before he could even remember what it felt like and it had been rare until Tevis...and now Max.

Max opened his eyes to see Val grinning at him. "You're very funny, Everett," he said, but still didn't move or take his arm away. "Someday I'm gonna tell you I've seen the light just for the expression on your face."

"It'll be the last thing either of us sees before Tree kills us," Val reminded him. Max laughed. There was that to consider.

Val slipped out of Max's arms and stretched, turning on a bedside lamp while he hunted for his clothes and found them washed and cleaned on the end of the bed. "I'm going to grab a shower while you are waking up," he said and slipped out of the room, giving Max just a glimpse of his bare ass before he closed the door.

He heard a wolf-whistle from the other room and Val shot something back while he laughed. There was an answering laugh that Max figured was probably the McAran guy.

Max laid there for a few more minutes before forcing himself up off the bed. He put his shoes back on and ran his hands through his hair before going out to see who had come over while they were sleeping. He found Andrew stretched out on the sofa with his hands behind his head.

The other man offered up his easy smile when he saw Max. "Look! The other sleeping beauty awakes! I dunno, Max, I think it works better for Val."

"I think he's got more to work with than I do," Max said, sitting on a chair nearby. His coordination had that just-awake, newborn colt feel to it but he did feel much more himself. "How's tricks?"

"Just another day in paradise," Andrew said.

They chatted amiably for a few minute while the shower water was running and then Val was out again, dressed and apparently ready to go. "Nice to see you clothed, Val. You know, if you show off all the merchandise too quick, there's no more mystery," Max advised.

"Ah, but one should always inspect the merchandise before buying," Val said impudently. "I suppose we should hit the hotel..." He glanced around the room.

"No, Pete and I picked up your stuff this afternoon and I checked us out. It's in my room if you want to go grab it." He explained to Val.

"Oh, sure," Val said and started to head out only to have Jan stop him.

"I need a few minutes of your time, Val," he said in a serious tone.

For a moment Val looked like a small trapped animal before the expression was banished and replaced with a small smile and nod. He settled on the sofa next to Andrew, who obligingly moved his feet to make room. "What's up?"

Max didn't have much experience reading the expressions on Jan's face but, even if he did, he doubted it would have helped him right then. "I have a specific reason for asking this, Val. It's not just prurient," he started. "I need to know if you can you tell me anything about the blood tie on your lover? Or the one your sire placed on you?"

Val studied his hands for a long moment before opening them and spreading them wide. "I don't know that much about it, really."

Jan appeared to mull that over for a minute. "What can you tell me about what you remember? I can use that for a start."

"I don't remember...not all of it," Val said quietly. He looked down at his hands and laced his fingers together, flexing them back and forth. "I'd met him once before and he made an appointment. I met him at the hotel - nice one - and I was already pretty high; did a line of coke earlier. Was feeling kind of dragged out and needed the energy."

"Just seemed kinda like rough trade for the most part when he started." Val unlaced his fingers and wiped his hands on his jeans. "He seemed to get off on keeping me hard for what seemed like forever, never letting me come. I was way beyond caring by the time he finally let me but...I think he was biting me when I did. It's really vague." He shrugged but the motion was stiff. "Next thing I remember, he was fucking me again like a regular trick but then he fed me. Didn't know it was blood. He...kept doing that. Fucking and feeding. Last thing I really remember is he got up and told me to remember the word 'vampire' and look out for the sunrise. I had no fucking clue what he meant," he finished softly and bitterly.

"I wanted to kill him after ...after Marcus." Val picked up the threads of his story a moment later. He'd woven his fingers back together and he was squeezing his hands so hard that his knuckles were white. "Swore I would but I didn't see him again for a couple of months and I was too busy trying to figure out what the hell I was doing to worry about him at first. Then he showed up out of the blue. I was furious and all he said was 'get in the car' and I did.  Was that fucking easy," he spat. "I knew who he was, still hated him, but I went just like that. I wanted it...wanted him. I wanted to leave the whole time and I couldn't. I did anything...anything he asked."

"That's what it is," Max interjected quietly, not wanting to intrude if he could help it at all but feeling the need to say something if only to get Jan's focus off of Val long enough for his friend to collect himself. "From what I know, it wouldn't have mattered what Val felt about the guy. All he had to do at any time was tell Val to do something and he would have to do it. He may know he hates the guy, hates doing what he's been ordered but he's still going to do it regardless."

There were some parallels to his ex-girlfriend, Yvette, in that both their vampire creators had wanted a sexual plaything. Hearing Val describe it, though, and understanding at least some of the helplessness that came from others having control of you had Max wanting to rip apart the vampire who had turned Val. Sharp pains in his palms distracted him from his thoughts and Max looked down to see his hands clenched into fists. He forced them back open but the desire to hit something or, more accurately, someone remained strong.

"You said he fed you his blood?" Jan asked, his voice neutral as if completely unaffected by Val's tale. "Do you remember how many times?"

"At least three. He did say it was old fashioned but that three times was the charm or something like that. Parts of it are just a blur anymore."

"But you aren't bound now?" Jan asked.

Val thought about it..."I don't know. I haven't ever seen him again and no other vampire has tried. God knows I disobey Madeleine often enough so I know I'm not bound to her. But if Sparrow shows up again...I don't know."

"Sparrow?"

"Second time that was what he told me I could call him. I have no idea what his name is."

"You're supposed to drink the blood of the vampire three times," Max said suddenly as a fragment of memory came to him.  At their looks, he shrugged, embarrassed. "Yvette told me," he added and then pushed ahead to avoid the subject of vampire/human pillow talk. "It doesn't take much at all and once you've done it..." He snapped his fingers. "You're theirs and I think the death of the other vampire is the only way to break the bond."

Andrew looked at him with interest. "How do you know _that_?" he asked.

So much for avoiding the subject. Max coughed and looked at the painting behind Andrew's head. "Ex-girlfriend."

Andrew opened his mouth but Jan interrupted him. "You don't remember him saying words that you didn't understand or gestures? I know the whole situation was bizarre but was there anything that really struck you about him or anything he did?"

Rubbing his face with his hands, Val thought, tried to set aside the feelings the whole encounter had left him with and sort through the vague memories. Some of it was vivid, vivid enough to make his stomach feel hollow. The rest of it made him uneasy, as if by probing to close he might recall more than he wanted to. "It wasn't any more weird than anything I'd done until then except the whole holding back...thing. I thought it was a power trip. He said when he handcuffed me that he wasn't going to hurt me. He just wanted to keep me from hurting myself." He opened his mouth as if to speak further and hesitated.

"What, Val?" Jan pressed.

"He kept, like, asking my permission for stuff. Or my agreement or something. 'Can I fuck you?' 'Can I put my..." Val trailed off with a veiled glance at Max. "That was only the first time, though. The second time he just told me what he wanted and I could barely obey fast enough," Val said in disgust.

"Enough," Andrew interjected as he sat up. "Jan, let it go for now."

Val shrugged again, a little less forced than the previous time but not with the customary easy grace Max was used to seeing. "It's okay." He took a breath and let it out, then stood up. "Let me run and get my clothes. My folks are going to be wondering where we are. Catch you at the car."

"Not to worry, Val. We'll keep in touch," Jan said and held out his hand. Val shook it and said his good-byes, slipping out the door as Andy and Max rose up to leave as well.

 _Ever find out who that guy is, swear to God I'm gonna kill him.  Break into his house and open up all the goddamn curtains, drive a stake through his heart...whatever_. Max filed the name "Sparrow" away for later reference. One of the good things about being a carny was you ran into people from everywhere and Max knew it was highly likely that some of his contacts and cohorts from both carnivals and other Mafia foot soldiers were either in Atlanta or at least passing through from time to time. Maybe somebody had heard the name.

He glanced up to find Jan looking at him with that same blank face he'd shown to Val. Max stared back at him. Maybe it would break the tag if he followed through on his thoughts but, fuck it, some things were more important.

A cough broke the staring context and Andrew stood up. "Come on, Max. We need to start this dog and pony show at some point. May as well do it while we have plenty of night left."

"Yeah." Max slowly stood up, feeling reluctant to move forward since that meant one step closer to the airport and letting Val return back to New Orleans without him. He let Andy more or less herd him out the door and down towards his new digs. "I'm gonna get through this tonight, aren't I?" he asked.

"How do you mean?" Andrew asked him, puzzled.

"I just don't..." Max sighed as they walked. "I feel like I'm sending Val back to the lion's den without Batman. If this is a good thing, then why do I feel like total shit for doing it?"

"There comes a point where you have to make the decision that is best for you," Andrew said. "Believe me, I get the bond between you and Val. But people can become as much a crutch as booze or drugs. If this is what you feel you have to do and Val is a true friend, then he's going to understand."

They walked a few more steps and Andy broke into the silence. "He offered to set up the meet, if I recall. You're the one who said yes. That means you made a decision right then on nothing more than gut instinct and knowing what you know of Val. Keep that in mind."

"Yeah," Max sighed. It all sounded good. It even sounded right. That didn't seem to be helping, though. He needed a moment to get his shit together before he made a total idiot of himself. Emotions were roiling under the surface that he couldn't quite define and he halfway felt the nondescript halls of the theater were starting to close in on him.

"Listen, I'll...uh, I'll meet you in the parking lot, okay?" Without waiting for a response, Max ducked away back down the hall and let Andy continue on.

Once in what was now his room, he sat down the bed and tried to collect his thoughts. Yes, Val had brought him here and Max could see now that Val had probably brought him with something like this in mind which meant...which meant Val had already had an idea he would be going back alone to New Orleans and Tevis and Madeline and everything else that entailed.

Then why hadn't he told Max what he wanted to do before they left New Orleans? That one was easy. Max knew he would have said no to Val's idea and blocked out any conversation at all about it. He knew himself well enough to know Val wasn't kidding when he called Max "stubborn". Instead, Val had done another version of sucker punching him. Instead of a hook to the jaw, he'd let Max see what could be his if he chose to walk another path. More than that, Val had shown Max that he had the _choice_ to walk another path in a way Val no longer did - or Val might have taken this path also. There had certainly been enough unguarded moments where Max had seen a look on Val's face he could only classify as a kind of longing for something you miss only when you know it's gone.

Max blew out a breath and looked around the room. He could do this. He could make Val's sacrifice mean something. He had to if only to somehow keep the memory of Batman and Robin alive.

Getting up, he swiped the keys to the room off his desk and put them in his pocket. As he did, Max thought of something and pulled out his wallet. Opening it, he reached into the small pocket, pulled out the wad of newspaper and unwrapped the ring. He stuck the newspaper back into his wallet and put the ring in his pocket along with the keys before snapping off the light and shutting the door behind him.

He found Val and Andrew sitting on the hood of Andrew's car waiting for him. Val seemed calm enough there was a kind of jerky energy to him as he got down and got in the front seat with Andrew, turning sideways to look at Max with a faint smile on his face. "Once more into the fray," he said softly and Max knew Val was talking about himself and not Max.

The ride over to the Everetts was quiet, both passengers lost in their own thoughts. Max didn't know what Val or Andy were thinking and wouldn't have asked anyway. Instead he just concentrated on trying to memorize as much as he could of the last few hours before Val left.

At the house, noise and light greeted them much the same as the first night they had shown up. Val's mother had made a huge dinner and invited Andrew to stay as well. He agreed and a place was made for him by Patrick. Val was immediately surrounded by the kids and Max sat back, watching. He saw Tree was wearing his gift and she smiled at him when she saw that he noticed. Mrs. Everett looked at him as well, a small smile on her face as well, and Max was suddenly very sure that there were already a few plans in the works regarding his and Tree's future. He nodded back slightly and turned to see Val listening very seriously to Agnes' explanation of something and had to look away again.

It was during dinner that Isabel asked if both Max and Val had gotten everything out of their hotel rooms and were packed for the flight home. Val looked at Max, who became very intent on his food; the vampire looked at Andrew and then smiled at his family. "Max is staying here. He wants to try the picket fence life. Check out the straight and narrow."

"You sadist, Everett," Max mumbled so that only Val could hear. Val simply put on his angelic look and Andrew seemed to be enjoying Max's discomfiture as Isabel ruffled his hair and told him he was very welcome and Tree kissed him on the cheek and told him she was glad he was staying.

When it got close to time to leave Val dropped his last bombshell for the weekend, his back stiff as he told his father that Andrew and Max would be taking him to the airport.

His parents were stunned and his siblings looked hurt. "Just...we can't all go," Val tried to explain. "Even if we took the truck and momma's car and I would rather...can I just leave seeing you all together?" he asked.

It was Isabel who broke the silence. She hugged her son and spoke softly to him for a long moment so only Val could hear before kissing him and then turned to her husband and her children. "You do it Val's way for once. You don't argue," she said sternly and then vanished into the kitchen.

It was awkward at first. Val stood staring at the floor before Tree pushed forward with her father right behind her. The flood gates opened after that with hugs and promises to call or write. Tree came to stand beside Max and slipped her hand into his while the younger children said good-bye. Isabel returned with a bag of deserts and foods that she stuffed in Val's bag.

Before they left, Hugh pulled Max aside to tell him he was expected for dinner on Sundays at the very least. There was also room in the basement if he wanted it. He could pay rent by helping Hugh finish out the room. Max agreed that he would try to make it for dinner on Sundays. He also thanked Hugh for the offer of the room but tried to explain why he wouldn't accept it right then. "I appreciate the offer, Mr. Everett, but I really want to see if I can make this work on my own two feet first. I've got a temporary place to stay and MATADA has offered me a job for right now although I could use some side work if you have an opening in your contracting or carpentry stuff and need a hand. Happy to help you finish out the room, though," Max ended.

"That would be good," Hugh said with a tight nod. "Frank and Pat? The last thing they want to do on the weekends is more of what they do during the week. But I like it and..." His smile became a little more open, more genuine. "It's good to have someone who hasn't heard all my jokes. Give me your number when you get it, all right? And it's Hugh," he reminded as he clapped Max on the back.

"Yessir." It didn't seem like there was much more to say without increasing the awkwardness of Val's family saying goodbye so Max excused himself and followed Andy and Val back to the car, shutting the back door and folding down into the seat so that his knees were up on the back of Val's seat and his head was level with the back seat. He didn't feel like saying much and Andy let him alone for the ride to the airport which Max was glad about. It would have been too hard to speak around the lump forming in his throat.

They reached the airport and Andy parked in short-term parking, pulling Val's things out of the trunk while Max and Val got out of the car and studiously avoided looking at each other. Inside the airport it was air-conditioner frigid and they waited in line to check Val and his luggage in before walking him to his departure gate. Once they were there, Max excused himself so that Andy and Val could say anything they needed to.

He wandered back about fifteen minutes later and saw both of them sitting in chairs, Andy leaning forward slightly as if checking to see that Max would return and hadn't simply taken off. He walked up to them and stood at the side of Val's chair, watching the airplanes taxi up to their gates or out to the apron to get in line to take off.

"Let's take a walk," Val said.

Max nodded, not wanting to speak. Following Val, the two walked a distance away from Andy. The airport was not very busy this time of night and Val was able to find a semi-secluded space where he stopped and looked at Max.

"Tell Yvette…" Max said, trying to smile like everything was normal. "Oh, hell. Tell her she can have my apartment. It'll be worth more to her."

"Is there anything you want me to send you from there?"

He considered, bouncing on the balls of his feet slightly. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Max felt the cool metal of his keys and the ring. "Whatever," he said finally. "Ain't much there but some clothes and stuff. If you want, send 'em on." He swallowed past the tightness in his throat. "There's a book of Jack London stories but...why don't you keep 'em? It'll give me a reason to visit if I gotta get 'em back."

"Don't need a reason, Batman," Val said quietly. "Don't come back for me, Max. Better if I come back to you - for a lot of reasons."

The silence stretched out between them. Max found himself looking at the reflection of the other late-night travelers in the windows rather than at Val. "So we're sure this is the way this is gonna go?" Max finally said, his voice cracking slightly.

"What do you mean?" Val asked, although it was a poor attempt at playing dumb and he knew it.

"You go and I stay," Max elaborated with a look that said he wasn't really fooled by Val's acting either.

"Are you going to make me miss my plane while I beat the shit out of you?" Val asked with a slightly forced chuckle. "You aren't making a bad choice."

"No. I know I'm not." Max made himself breathe around an unfamiliar tightness in his chest. "It's just when...superheroes break up, there's usually bad shit that goes down and I just want..." He stopped and rubbed at his eyes. "I just want you to be okay."

Val was silent and held himself still, as if movement would loosen the tight controls he had on himself. "I'll be fine," he said after a moment and found he couldn't quite meet Max's eyes when he made that statement. "You...both of us...just gotta keep looking for other hands to catch us. I didn't drop you and you didn't drop me. I still won't. But I have a little reaching of my own to do and you're going to have to be my anchor here."

Max tried to summon up some anger for his next statement but it seemed to be a futile attempt. Any enmity kept getting dashed on the rocks of his feelings for his friend. "You really suck for planning all this and not telling me," he said finally but there was no heat in it.

Val stared upward at the soundproof tiles even as a small smile lit his features. "I knew when you met my dad that you two would get along. He liked you and..." He brought his head back down and looked at Max. "And I knew you wanted this even if you didn't see how it could ever happen. I can't do much with my own circumstances," he admitted. "But I knew I might be able to help you with yours and, selfish or not, I wanted that for you. And me."

"Yeah," Max said after a moment. “You still suck but…thanks.”

Val desperately sought for something to lighten the atmosphere between them. "Besides, you're someone new to eating my mother's cooking. She'll love you just for that."

"I eat much more of your mother's cooking and I'm going to start looking like Frank," Max shot back, equally desperate for them to get back on tried and true footing with each other. However, the usual following banter didn't appear and both of them were left looking at each other and wondering how to communicate the necessary things in the moments ticking away.

Val turned and leaned against the wall next to Max and mimicked his friend's posture down to the hands in his pockets. "I'm glad I came home," he said. "But in spite of all the shit that is waiting for me in New Orleans, I am happier to be going back. I'm not a yo-yo, Max. I can't keep doing this. I _will_ visit," he promised, reaching over to grip Max's forearm. "And I'll call for as long as I can..."

He paused and held Max's forearm in a tighter grip until the other man turned to look at him. "I will never get any older, Max. The only reason my family didn't notice is because they haven't seen me in years. There is going to have to come a point where I will have to disappear and you _can't tell them why_ ," he said emphatically. "You gotta promise me that. Let them remember that their son came back and said he loved them and they got to tell him the same thing.”

“I’ll call for as long as I can,” Val promised and then looked down before raising his eyes to meet and hold Max’s. “But only for a year or two. I’m not going to get any older and there’s no way to hide it from them. Hopefully that will be enough time for us to…reconnect, I guess, and say things that need to be said.”

Max rubbed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I promise, okay? I won’t say anything to them.” The thought of Val dying – even if it wasn’t real but just something that put him beyond Max’s reach – was not something he wanted to contemplate. “I fucking hate this,” he muttered. “Why does it have to be this way?” A potent yet futile desire to change their circumstances filled him and he had to beat it back down. Val was forever cut off from the daylight world and would remain just as he was while Max, the Everetts, and everyone else aged and died.

"You know what I hate most of all?” Val’s quiet voice interrupted Max’s thoughts. “I hate that it took me this long to find a friend. Not a lover or another hustler that I got along with but a friend; someone I didn’t have to hide from or hide what I am. It means everything to me, Max. Please believe that.” Val fought to keep his control. Tears here would invite questions and he couldn't afford them.

"We're Batman and Robin, Everett,” Max said tightly. “Don't you forget it."

"I won't.” Val said softly.

“So…hey. If I gotta promise something, so do you.” Max turned and leaned against his right shoulder against the wall. “Promise me that even after you…disappear, I’ll know where you are and that if you need anything, you’ll let me know.” Val opened his mouth as if to protest and Max rushed on. “Whether you think you're human or not, deserving or not. I don't care. Promise me, Val."

The vampire nodded as he locked eyes with Max. "You'll know as long as this part of me is in control.” He tried to laugh as he said, “Can’t promise for my evil twin, Skippy.” The laugh faltered but Val managed not to look away. “As long as I can,” he reiterated.

They were interrupted by the first boarding call for Val's flight. Val turned to go but Max grabbed his arm. “Wait a sec.” He fumbled in his pocket for the ring and pressed it into Val’s hand. “Keep this.”

Val opened his hand and looked at the ring. "What's this?"

"It was my dad's wedding ring. They returned it to us with his effects. I want you to have it."

Val thought he should protest, that he should tell Max to keep it for Tree or as a reminder that his path now had the chance to be different than his father’s. The longer it lay in his hand, though, the more he wanted to keep it. It was a part of Max that he could take back to New Orleans and wear close to his skin. Max would still be with him.

Fingering the ring, Val swallowed and then slipped it on his finger. It was a little too large for the slender fingers but he closed his hand around it. "Tev is going to think I'm two-timing him,” he said with a small smile before lunging forward and pulling Max into a hard, tight hug. "Be very glad, Max Griffin, that I met Tevis before I met you," he whispered and pressed his lips pressed against the side of Max's neck. "Or Tree would have never stood a chance."

The last boarding call was announced and they reluctantly walked back to where Andy was waiting with an anxious look on his face that became only slightly less intense when he saw them. He gave Val one more embrace and handed over Val’s bag.

"Sir, if you're taking this flight, you'll need to board now," the agent called. Val nodded and then Max was facing Val for what might be the last time.

He reached out and awkwardly pulled Val into an embrace, feeling the other man's arms encircle him and tighten their grip. "Watch yourself," Max whispered. "I'll take care of your family and…I love you, you idiot." It seemed like so little to say after all they'd been through but it seemed to sum up everything important that had passed between them.

Val nodded, took a quick, sharp breath and gave both his friends a dazzling smile. "Same to you,” he said. He looked over at Andrew and pointed to Max, the ring glittering warmly against his pale skin. “Watch him,” he said and then turned, boarding the plane.

When the door closed behind Val, Andy put a hand on Max's arm but Max shrugged it off and moved to stand in front of the windows that overlooked the runway. “Not yet.”

Andy nodded and stood next to the younger man as they watched Val’s plane slowly taxi away from the gate and down the runway. As it continued towards its takeoff, Max continued to watch until the plane was first in line on the apron and then lifted off the runway into the night.


	13. Staying is the Hardest Part

Max stood staring at the disappearing lights of Val's plane until Andy came up to him again and touched his arm. Max turned to look at him. "Get me out of here."

McAran nodded and the two men walked quickly out of the airport and to the parking lot. The only sounds in the car were the creaking of the steering wheel and the click of the turn signal as Andy navigated the twists and turns out of the airport. It wasn’t until they were on the freeway that Max spoke.

“Stop at a package store, okay?”

“Probably not going to help,” Andy said, glancing between Max and the freeway in front of him. Max was staring out the window but Andy figured Max wasn’t seeing anything except a plane lifting off into the night sky.

“No,” Max agreed. “But I don’t think it can make things any worse.”

“Fair enough.”

They drove along in silence for a few more minutes before Andy spoke again. “I've learned a lot about you in the last two days, Max. Liked most of it but like what I've seen more. When I first met Val, he nearly broke my heart because there was so much potential. But the life he chose – and he did choose it, Max – isn’t easy even if you aren’t turned. But it might have given him something in return.”

“What’s that?” Max asked, half-listening.

“Time enough to realize his potentials are there and might be used in a different way. From talking to him before he left Atlanta, New Orleans was his way of leaving everything behind, start over where no one knew him and he could make himself into anything he wanted to be.”

“Tried that myself,” Max said. His voice took on a sarcastic tone as he held up his right hand for a moment before shoving it back into a pocket. “Didn’t work so well – or maybe better than I planned.”

Andy rolled his eyes and took a deep breath, reminding himself that Max had just said goodbye to someone he considered a brother and possibly something more if circumstances had been different and either Max or Val had been able to explore it. When he felt a little more calm, he said, “When Val ran into you, he got slapped in the face with all the stuff he tried to leave behind and had to answer to it because that’s what being a Healer is. But it has to have a focus and you became the focus for Val to look out for someone besides himself again.”    

He heard rather than saw Max shift in his seat. “Was that really such a good thing, Andy?” he asked. “I’m here. He’s…there.”

“Do you really think Val would have done any of this on his own without you?” Andy replied. “He wanted to save you but, in that attempt, he may have saved himself as well; bought himself a little more time. He wanted to see you free and clear which put him in Jan’s reach to be tagged. He _asked_ for that, Max. It’s a way to keep himself as human as possible for as long as possible. It’s his way of pulling himself out of chaos and into some sort of balance – and you along with him.”

“Why do I think I’m going to get tired of those words before long?” Max muttered. He sighed loudly and sat up straighter in the seat. “I get what you’re saying,” he offered as a half-apology for his words and attitude. “But this is gonna take some getting used to for me. I’ve been alone for a lot of my life and now…I’m not.”

Andy nodded as he signaled and slowed down for the exit. From what Max had said during his question and answer session with Jan and then what had been discussed afterwards, Max had been used to going his own way for a very long time with no support system. Now he not only had Val but the Everetts and MATADA as well. Yet the one person who had created that system and guided Max to it was no longer in arm’s reach.

He didn’t say any of that, just kept driving until he pulled into a parking lot and gestured in front of him. “Package store.”

“Thanks.” Max got out and Andy waited, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel while he waited for Max to appear. He was wondering if Max would just leave through whatever back door was available and try to take off for New Orleans when the former carny finally appeared with a bottle wrapped in a brown paper bag and got back in the car.

“Home, Jeeves,” Max said as he cracked open the bottle’s seal. He took a swig and offered it to Andy.

“Driving,” Andy said and started the engine.

“Right.” Max capped the bottle and placed it between his feet. "I suppose Jan would probably say that getting really drunk right now would not be a good idea. I doubt Pete needs a crew member with a hangover and Adam will just point it out as something else I messed up."

Andrew glanced over as he slowed for a red light. "Don't jump too hard on Adam, Max. Everybody has a story and Adam's isn't so far off Val's as you might think."

"If you don't mind, I think I'll reserve judgment on what a nice guy Adam might be," Max muttered to the view outside his window. He had the feeling that, at some point in the future, he and Adam might end up going a few rounds. He was also starting to think that Lattice and MATADA might be harder going than he'd thought. 

Val’s voice came hard on the heels of that last thought. _Don't blow this, you idiot._ Max looked over and caught a glimpse of the tight expression on Andy’s face as he navigated the streets. An apology might be in order, he decided. “Can we just consider that I've apologized for that last remark?" Max asked. "I think I'm gonna get cards with the word 'sorry' printed on them. Or maybe a blue placard that says 'learning to think before I speak'."

A small smile eased Andy’s features. "We could fix you with one of those dog collars that shocks you if you talk too much."

“Who holds the buzzer?” Max shot back and was rewarded with a laugh and Andy’s suggestion that they hold a lottery for that privilege.

"What's the deal with Jan?" Max finally asked. The question had been in his mind all night. "Why does he want to know about blood bonds?"

"Oh, there's a lot of answers to that one," Andrew said cautiously. "Jan works with the more esoteric end of the scale as well - what you would call magic."

Max sincerely hoped there was some kind of guidebook they’d forgotten to give him because he was becoming more and more lost. "But what does he want to do with that knowledge?" It didn't look like Andy was going to say anything. "C'mon, McAran. I already know about vampires, MATADA and the Pillars and all that. I know, I know. Don't ask the questions unless I really want to know the answers, right? But how am I supposed to make an informed decision about anything without the information?" He turned sideways in his seat to see Andrew clearly. "Right?"

"You also have to know you can't learn everything in a few hours," Andrew said evenly. "Max, there is such a thing as information overload. Jan has a very immediate need to know as much about bindings as he possible but it's his to tell, not mine.”

He could understand what Andy was saying but it didn't mean he had to like it. "Feels like I'm stuck on the edge of the mystical superhighway in a damn overheated Pinto," he groused. “Let’s try this another way, then. How come more people _don't_ seem to know about this stuff?"

"Mostly because they don't want to or they think there is something romantic about the idea. There isn't. If Adam could give up his Sight, he would in a heartbeat. Sometimes gifts are more a curse than a blessing. Look at Val. Immortality sounds great until you are there and have to face the idea that you will far outlive everything you love."

Well, that could be true. "Can I ask you a kind of personal question?"

"I won't promise to answer," Andrew said with a faint smile. "But you can ask."

"If...Adam is supposed to be an okay guy, what can you tell me about him? You guys seem pretty tight. What's the deal?"

Andrew was silent for the rest of the drive and pulled in to the MATADA parking lot, still not having said a word. Max was beginning to think he might not answer and gathered up his bottle. He stopped moving when Andy began speaking.

"How you feel about Val? That's how I feel about Adam," he said quietly. "I have known him since we were both 18; met while I was an exchange student at Oxford. He actually hasn't been with MATADA or the Pillars for very long...about three years. And he has had to deal with some very..." Andrew fell silent again as if it were hard to speak.

"Most of the people involved with the work we do are there because they want to be. Adam is about as close as we've ever gotten to coercing someone. He made the choice but it came under some heavy persuasion and he did it because he is friends with me and Jan. The man has a lot of integrity, Max, and a big heart. He just doesn't always express it to those he doesn’t know. And let’s face it, when your first impression of someone is them contemplating making a meal out of your best friend…”

“Okay, yeah,” Max said. He unclipped his seat belt and opened the door. “Thanks for the ride.” He lifted the bottle in salute. “I assume I’ll be seeing you again.”

"You’re welcome and you will.” He’d asked Jan for that assignment. Something in Max called to Andy. Maybe it was his family’s background with foster children and his familiarity with the unseen scars they could carry. “If Pete lets you have any time off, come down to the store. There probably is a book or two you could read if you want and I won't be back this way until the weekend unless something comes up. But Pete or Jan has the number if you just need someone to talk to," Andrew said with a smile and drove off when Max shut the passenger door..

Max waited until the car pulled away and then headed upstairs to his room. Everything was quiet which was new for him. By this time back in the Quarter, things would just be getting going and the club would be full of loud music and yells for the strippers. But he wasn't in the Quarter anymore. He was in a small, clean dorm room attached to a theatre in Atlanta, Georgia where behind the scenes looked like it had the promise to be more involving than anywhere he’d previously worked.

He laid down on the bed and shoved his duffel bag aside to use as an impromptu pillow. Uncapping the bottle, he took several swallows and tried to get used to the absence of sound. “This is way weird, Val,” Max said to the ceiling as he let another swallow of whiskey burn its way down his throat. “I’m still not really sure I made the right decision. I know you think I did so I’m going to work with that and try not to fuck it up too bad. Not too sure what kind of start I’m off to, though.”

He rolled the bottle between his hands. “You’re the one who’s good at all the talking. I’m not.” Bringing the bottle up, he took another drink. “You may see me back in New Orleans at some point. Hopefully, that doesn’t mean I’ve blown it but I make no promises ‘cause as we all know, I don’t know what it means to be legit.”

Max looked up at the ceiling again and lifted the bottle. “So here’s to Batman and Robin and trying not to blow it. Best of luck to both of us.” He swallowed down toasts for both himself and Val and then set the bottle down by the bed. Closing his eyes, he let the alcohol lull him into sleep.

The morning brought sunlight and Pete's voice. "Up and at 'em, sunshine!"

"Motherfuck…” Max grumbled. He opened one eye and wished he hadn’t as it was seared by the overhead room light. “Sadistic son of a bitch.” His body felt leaden and his mouth felt like someone had installed shag carpet in it overnight. His attempt to get out of the unfamiliar bed was marked by a distinct lack of grace but one foot finally landed on the floor and then the other. Max swung his body upright and squinted to see Pete leaning against the doorjamb and smiling widely. “What the _hell_ time is it?”

“Six-thirty,” Pete replied as he entered. Something flew at him and Max found himself clutching a wad of cloth. “Here. Clean T-shirt.” While Max fumbled his way out of the shirt he’d slept in and into the new one, Pete leaned down and picked up the bottle by the bed. “Man, this shit’s gonna tear holes in your liver.”

Max was still trying to get his head around the fact it was six-thirty, he was _awake_ at six-thirty and that last night hadn’t all been some kind of really weird dream. His head wasn’t quite pounding like a bass drum as was its usual wont when he was hung over, but there was just enough of a steady beat to remind him that he was skating on thin ice. “Oh my God,” he mumbled as he scrubbed his face with his hands. “None of y’all mentioned the fact I’d be working in the _daylight_.”

“We thought we’d save that,” Pete said. “Be glad I’m not taking video for the MATADA Christmas party. I’d suggest brushing your teeth so you smell less like one of the walking dead and more like a human being before I introduce you to the rest of the crew.”

Max squinted up at Pete from his seated position but it didn’t seem like the other man was going to move until Max did. “Fine. Whatever,” he grumbled in response. He rooted around in his duffel bag and grabbed what he needed. Some toothpaste and several dunkings of his head under cold water helped wake Max up and he scrubbed at his hair with a towel as he re-entered his room. "What's on the agenda for today?" he asked, running his fingers through his hair in lieu of his comb.

"Load in. Set pieces are built in the shop and we just have to fit them together. Come on, buddy. Coffee and bagels in the Green Room."

The Green Room turned out to be a large area with sofas and chairs behind the stage area where the actors could wait between cues on stage during a performance. It was flanked by dressing rooms and costume areas. The coffee was fresh as were the bagels. There was already a crew of about six there, four men and two women. Pete introduced Max to them and told them he would be a new member of the crew.

Load in was not quite as strenuous as Max's work with the carnivals. The set pieces for the most part were light weight and flimsy looking but as they were moved into place and put together, the illusion of solid walls and workable windows took shape. Pete had been right about his skills. Building the set pieces took some training but assembling them required no more than a working knowledge of which way to hold a hammer, how to swap battery packs on portable drills and which way to turn a ratchet – all of which Max was comfortable with. All the set pieces were laid out or stacked on the stage by early afternoon and about half the set was assembled.

Pete called time and gave everyone thirty minutes for lunch when the pizza arrived. "I want to make sure we have all the door units in place by rehearsal at six," he hollered as everyone started drifting off. "Late call is at midnight so sleep while you can this evening, boys and girls!”

He motioned Max to sit down next to him while they ate. "Normally, I don't do this part." he told Max, popping a second soda. "I supervise the operations of the complex but the Technical Director had a death in the family last week and had to go home to Milwaukee. But, as they say, 'the show must go on’." He grinned as Max rolled his eyes. "We'll have most of this done and then you and I can get back to what I should be doing which is re-hanging the battens on the second stage. How are you at heights, Max? Seriously? I heard the comment about rooftop ledges."

"I got thrown off a coaster track a couple years ago," Max said after a moment. Somehow the words had become easier to say. "I make myself go up on roofs and stuff but it still gives me the chills." He looked at Pete out of the corner of his eye to see how the man was digesting this and couldn’t really see anything except interest and what might be termed compassion. "I can do it, though. Once I get up there. Although....I am more comfortable on the ground," he admitted.

"Good enough. You can handle the floor then and I can handle the high stuff," Pete said and described briefly what they would be doing in re-hanging the iron pipes over the stage that the lighting instruments hung from. Pete glanced at the clock and then slapped Max's thigh in a friendly way. "At it again, my man," he said and they went back to work.

Once work was completed, Pete showed Max the log sheet where he would keep track of his hours, then made a point of taking Max to the properties storage to sign out for linens and pillows, telling him to let him know if there was anything else he needed.

"Kitchen in the dorm has plates and pots and pans,” he explained. “But if you aren't into cooking, there's a couple of good restaurants within walking distance and a grocery store about two blocks down and back behind the service station on the corner. Theatre buys food for crew calls including tonight although I think Mike Ramsey was just going to drop off some leftovers from a catering job they had tonight." Pete laughed. "Half the time we don't know what the heck we're eating but it's always good. When the cafe opens up again they put leftovers in the dorm kitchen as well. Where there are actors, there is food. You going to be set?" When Max nodded, Pete said, “Grab a shower and some sleep. Midnight calls are a bitch but the lighting designer can't focus until the set’s in. He'll be doing that tomorrow during the day so I'll come hunt you up around noon or so depending on when we get done tonight. Rehearsal tomorrow night so you'll be off for whatever. Then rehearsals shift to days through the weekend. I may loan you out to lighting folk if they need extra hands.”

Showered and back in his room, Max started putting his things away. When he pulled his clothes out of the bag, a folded up piece of paper fell to the floor. He picked it up and nearly dropped the clothes in his other hand. The paper was wrapped around a stack of bills – five hundred dollars per his count. He set the money on the dresser and opened up the piece of paper to find a note from Val.

_Batman - knew you'd be strapped and you know I'm not. No matter who pays my salary, I still earned it. Think of it as a loan if you need to, but you have to pay it back in person. Robin_

"You still suck," he said softly, folding the bills over. He placed them in the back of the drawer underneath several T-shirts. "But it’s a date."


	14. Lifeline

MATADA and the Everetts conspired to keep Max busy over the next few weeks. He worked for MATADA and also with Hugh and Frank Everett some days and evenings to pick up extra cash. The Everett family had practically adopted him, something he rather enjoyed although he'd never have admitted it. He’d initially refused dinner invitations from them, feeling awkward about inserting himself into the family – not to mention his feelings for Val’s sister – and it seemed like he was getting away with it until he came out of the theater one day to find Hugh and Frank leaning against Hugh’s truck, waiting for him. They told him in no uncertain terms that he would be coming to Sunday dinner since Sunday dinner was for family. Caught, Max agreed and could never leave a meal thereafter without Isabel handing him "something for the road" which he generally shared with the actors and other MATADA employees who inhabited the dorm as well.

He'd had several early moments where he'd thought about packing it in but Max stuck it out. The small ember of his self-confidence and self-respect that Val had helped to light grew as Max found he could see the life he'd dreamt about begin to slowly take shape. The work was time-consuming and labor-intensive, sometimes requiring late hours and little sleep, but he felt much more satisfaction from it.

If he was honest, Max had worried about how people would accept him once it came out he was an ex-con and ex-Mafioso – however low level he’d been. It seemed his worry was needless. The few people that knew beyond Jan, Andy, Adam and Pete never seemed to treat him any differently and the other MATADA inhabitants had quickly enfolded him into their community. Sometimes when he was working, he would look around and see Jan, Adam, Andy or Pete watching him with a thoughtful expression on their face. Max was intensely curious as to what they were thinking but tried to shrug it off and keep focused on what he was doing, hoping that Andy or someone would clue him in. For now, he kept his head down and kept working, discovering that “normal” was honestly something he enjoyed. There was a soothing rhythm in getting up and going to work, seeing and talking to people he could count as friends, and seeing his work actually take shape, be used and appreciated that gave him far more contentment than his work for any of his other bosses ever had.

Max also found himself falling more and more into the role of Pete's assistant and there was satisfaction there as well for Max. As people got used to seeing him, they began coming to him for things they might normally have gone to Pete for. Some of it was as trivial as to report one of the bathrooms was not working but there were other times when they needed this thing from properties or wanted his advice on some aspect of theatre he didn't feel qualified to offer but it seemed that in this world at least, everyone had an opinion and his was just as valid as anyone else's.

He'd even taken Tree out on a date. They'd been to the movies with Tim, Agnes and Daniel "chaperoning" and she in turn had invited him to Stone Mountain to go swimming the next weekend. He was still cautious since Tree was firmly in the “nice girl” category and he valued his relationship with the Everetts. That wasn’t to say Max hadn’t had _some_ thoughts about Val’s sister and the sight of her in a bathing suit was both a blessing and a curse. She seemed to find his discomfiture amusing and occasionally seemed to go a bit out of her way to do or say something that would suddenly transform him back into the tongue-tied village idiot but he was coming to understand that his feelings were returned.

Overall, the eight weeks since Val had left had been good ones. Max had discovered that he did have more worth and value as a person than he'd given himself credit for and he was proving both to himself and to MATADA that he could stick this out, had truly wanted the chance to become legit and was committed to making it happen. His world was finally exhibiting a little balance.

The first show opened and Max found that in addition to his pay for working on the set he was given four complimentary tickets. He offered them to the Everetts and found himself laughing at the idea that he would 'double-date" with Theresa and her parents but it was an enjoyable evening.

After the show, Max took them backstage to see the sets and meet the actors. Hugh took a look at the set and found himself locked in a discussion with Pete, going over the methods that made the construction look so real. A little surprised, Max eavesdropped shamelessly while Tree and Isabel were being shown the costumes. Hugh was interested in volunteering some time and Pete was glad to have him.

"I have plenty to do but..." Hugh started in his slow, deep drawl when Max asked. "With the money Val sent and some help from Andrew, it looks like I might get to retire in a few years after all. Can't see myself sitting around the house all the time." He grinned like a little kid. "This could be a lot of fun. Always liked the idea of magic and what you did here, Max," he said, gesturing to the set which without the lights did look like the flimsy construct it was. "This is probably as close as I'll get."

"I could see it,” Max agreed. “But what's this talk about retirement?" Hugh had never complained but the discussions between Val and Max in New Orleans had left Max with the impression Hugh would be financially unable to do so.

"That friend of Andy’s…Adam? Apparently he does a bit of investing on the side. Came by the job site one day and offered to invest some of the money Val left us. Don't know why 'cept maybe Val asked him. I figured it couldn’t hurt and said okay. We bought some stock and Adam signed papers guaranteeing the first ten thousand and between he and that bank fella and we seem to be doing okay.” Hugh looked pleased. “So, if things work out? I figured I do a little cabinetry work on the side, maybe this. See how it goes."

"Sounds like a plan," Max agreed. Adam had set this up? And had guaranteed the money? Maybe Andrew wasn't so far off base after all.

The only thing that worried Max was he hadn’t heard from Val beyond a quick phone call after Val had arrived back in New Orleans. It was difficult to get in touch with Val considering the hours he worked were now exactly opposite what Max usually worked but not being able to talk to Val with the ease he had before still left Max feeling unsettled and like part of himself was missing.

The night the show closed, Max helped strike the set and then joined in the customary “strike party” – beer and other assorted beverages brought out only after the power tools were safely put away. He’d tumbled into bed around three in the morning and was awakened by the slam of a car door only two hours later. Looking out he saw Adam and Andrew quickly crossing the parking lot. It looked like they were headed for Jan's apartment and the urgency with which they moved piqued Max's curiosity. A small twinge of unease spread through him as he wondered what could make both men look so grim. The rest of the night was spent tossing and turning coupled with furtive looks out the window to see if anyone else had arrived or if he could catch a glimpse of what was going on.

By daybreak, the two cars were still there. Max grabbed a shower and a quick bite since there was another call at noon. But when he went to hunt up Pete for a task list, Andrew was at the bottom of the stairs and stopped him

"No easy way to say, this, Max," the big man told him. "Jan's lost his tag on Val. We're in the middle of trying to figure out what to do and we figure that involves you."

Max stopped where he was, feeling like someone had just punched him in the stomach. "Lost his tag?" he asked uncomprehendingly. "Does that mean Val's...dead?"

Andrew shook his head. "No,” he hastened to say, knowing how Max felt about Val, and then forced himself to be honest. “At least not as far as we can tell. There was a faint sign but nothing more since then. Jan wants to talk to you."

For all Max had wanted to talk to Jan in the past few weeks, he suddenly wanted to run the other way. He didn't want to hear that anything had happened to Val. Andrew looked at him expectantly, waiting for his answer, and Max knew he didn't have a choice. If it involved Val, he was not going to be left out. Nodding, he motioned for Andy to lead him back into Jan's apartment, wondering what had happened and trying to figure out what he could door what Jan would let him do.

Jan and Adam looked up as Max entered and both of them looked like hell. Jan looked more exhausted than anything but Adam was actually shaking as he sipped at a large glass of juice. The remains of food were on the table and coffee and there were paper and books on the table as well.

"What's going on?" Max asked as soon as Jan looked up at him. "Andy says Val's missing?" He could hear his voice slide up a little high and tight with panic and tried to beat it back as he waited for Jan's answer.

"You remember I said I can only track Val when he's feeding?" Jan said wearily. "Well the last time was about four days ago and not anything since until about three this morning but it was barely a feeding...then he was gone again."

"Four days?!" Max burst out. "And you're just worrying about it now? What the hell--" He caught Andy behind Jan drawing a frantic thumb across his throat. That unsubtle gesture let Max know he was about to go too far. He made himself choke back the words he wanted to say, feeling them lodge sharp and painful in his throat. Max shoved his hands in his back pockets and forced himself to look away, eyes wandering around the room until he felt he could continue in a way that wouldn't result in his immediate eviction from this meeting. This was too damn important. "You didn't have to tell me," he finally said, eyes skittering briefly over Jan and Adam before locking on to Andy’s gaze and getting a slight nod in return. "I appreciate it. What...can I ask if you're going to try and find him?" 

"We have every intention of going down there," Jan said calmly. "But we have to know everything we can about the situation first. That means I need to know everything you know, Max, about the power structure there as well as local stuff. Anything you can remember about Madeleine will help too."

Max shrugged uncomfortably as memories started to come back unbidden. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the wall. "I was there about two years total. Before that, I was pretty much a courier only. Someone would give a package in one town and I'd drop it off to someone else who was on our carnival route."

"Why?"

Max shrugged again. “You don’t ask those types of questions. I was told to do it and I did it. Messenger came by in Alabama and told me that when the carnival got to New Orleans, I needed to quit because the word from Jersey was they wanted me working for Jonathan Vault."

"This is...one of the people that was killed a couple of months back?" Jan asked. "Who was he?"

"Vault is... _was_ ," Max corrected himself, "a fairly well-known, highly placed man in the Family. He had business in a lot of different places. I think he'd been in New Orleans for a while, though."

"And you just said yes with no questions asked," Jan said as if confirming the sequence of events.

"A good Jersey boy like me refuse?" Max laughed sourly. "Didn't even cross my mind. 'Sides, working for Vault was at least better than going back East. Too much crap to wade through and I probably would’ve had to make my bones to prove my loyalty. With Vault, it seemed he accepted I was loyal. Guess somebody vouched for me."

"What was his position there?"

"He..." Even with everything that had happened, Max still found he had a deeply ingrained reluctance to talk about Mafia business with groups collectively labeled "outsiders". He sighed, feeling an enormous weight settle on his shoulders as he dredged up memories of the life he’d started to leave behind. "Vault oversaw lots of stuff. I know he got a cut of protection money. He was active in the drug trade. Bayou served as a collection or distribution point and he usually had me work the deal if that was the case."

Max paused for a moment before continuing. “He really was into the whole sex trade thing: prostitutes, porn…whatever.” He stopped as a thought hit him. “Was, um, probably how he got some of his…meals. Nobody’s gonna question if a whore disappears.” He fell silent and wrapped his arms around himself. _I didn’t know_ …he told himself but Max still felt guilty over all the men and women he could recall crossing Vault’s threshold.

“Go on,” Jan encouraged.

Max shook himself back to the present with a start. “He used to call it ‘buying trips’,” he said slowly. “When he said that, I knew he’d be gone for a few days, maybe a week, and then come back with…y’know…” He uncupped one hand from his elbow and waved his fingers around a little bit.

“Prostitutes,” Andy supplied.

Max brought up his hand to rub at an eyebrow. “Don’t know.” In response to Andy’s look, he said defensively, “If Sparrow could do what he did, why not Vault? Maybe they came on their own, maybe not. I don’t know. All I know is he’d show up with ‘em and they’d start working the streets for him or he’d trade ‘em to someone else for parties or films.”

“You said porn,” Jan said. “Those kind of films?”

Max stared at the floor. “Mostly, I think.” Silence greeted his response and Max decided he could outlast it until one of them spoke but the tick of the second hand on the clock seemed to remind him of the men and women he’d seen in Vault’s company. “Didn’t know he was a vampire so…”

He changed the subject. Talking about this brought up too many things he didn’t want to think about, _couldn’t_ think about. “When he died, a guy named Benton took over. He left the structure pretty much intact. I was supposed to work for him again as one of several guys he was spreading out through Louisiana as he expanded since I knew some of the business. There were a couple guys above me but all the players were still pretty much the same from Vault's days. I don't think he was a vampire like Vault, though."  _At least I fucking hope not!_

Max looked up to find Jan looking at him the same way he had when Max had first arrived at MATADA, that weird gaze where Jan was looking at him but not _seeing_ him. “What’s the connection with Madeleine?” Jan asked.

 _Fuck me._ “How long does this blind, blanket permission last?” Max snapped.

Andy opened his mouth but Adam laid a hand on his arm. “Max, if you want to help us find Val, we need to know everything that you know,” he said sharply. Max saw the other man take a breath before he spoke again and when he did, his tone had moderated into something softer but still with a hint of steel. “I understand that you don’t like talking about it – especially after you’ve been able to start leaving it behind here – but, like it or not, you’re involved because of your associations with those two. How much you’re involved is something only you can determine.”

Max tilted his head and let the back of his skull gently thunk against the wall. He blinked his eyes against the sudden stinging that was making his vision blurry. Yes, he wanted to help Val. If he truly was Batman, he’d be putting together some fantastic master plan complete with Bat-a-rangs and they’d speed off into the night in the Batmobile. But he wasn’t Batman. And, truth be told, he knew just enough now about his former employer and his associates to realize how long he’d been playing with fire and not even known it. He’d always known that his life was not worth much to the higher-ups; foot soldiers were a dime a dozen. Now, however, Max was incredibly aware of how easily he could have been controlled, killed or turned into a plaything for Vault and it was frightening knowledge.

“She’s Anis’ cousin. I, uh, I never talked much to her,” he said, eyes still on the ceiling. “I acted as Vault’s driver quite a few times and it was usually when he went to go pick up Maddie. Don’t know if he ever told her anything about me.

She runs a place for people with…discreet tastes, I think she calls it. Didn’t understand what she meant back then. Didn’t care.” He swallowed and kept his eyes on the ceiling. Madeleine had always made Max’s skin crawl. The woman had a predatory air that belied the beautiful, fragile exterior she presented to others.

 

"They seemed pretty tight, the two of them. Vault told me once or twice that Madeleine had gone with him on some of his buying trips.” Max brought his head back down but decided his shoes were a much more interesting sight than the faces of the three gentlemen in front of him. “They were also big into voodoo and got off on the rituals. They usually had the services of a priestess named Shawnda Rochelle.”

"Great," Jan sighed. "Voudoun. Yet something else I have barely a working knowledge of. Shit." He glanced at Andrew. "When we got done here, call Evan for me. Talk to Clea and see what she can find out. She should already be compiling a list of people we know in New Orleans.” He shifted his attention back to Max. “Go on, Max. What did you see? Anything might help."

Max reminded himself that he was helping Val and that Val was worth however uncomfortable he was feeling right now. "They were big into blood. Surprise, right? Didn't matter what or whose. They sacrificed chickens…dogs. They'd cut each other and lick it." He could feel himself inching towards mental territory he'd long since shut away. "Tried to get me to cut myself up one night and I told him there wasn't any way in hell that was happening. Vault thought that was funny. Said I was off the hook for now. Next time we were there, Madeleine's got some goon with her; he opens the trunk and there's some poor homeless guy in there scared half to death.” Max squeezed his eyes shut. ‘People…people can scream really loud.”

“They can,” Andy agreed softly. “What happened to him?”

"Vault and Maddie seemed to get tired of him after a while. They disappeared into a bedroom so I grabbed him and took him to an emergency room. When I got back, Maddy seemed pissed I'd taken her toy." She'd brushed by him and turned a malevolent gaze on him that left him feeling flayed to the bone.  “Vault told me to get out and stay with the car. That was the last time I drove him to any of those nights.”

"So we have a new player, Benton," Adam said, not looking at Max or at anyone. "We also have vampire royalty and its relatives. Could Val have possibly found anyone more powerful to be involved with?" he said wearily. "Max, you said the Feds were asking you about Vault's death?"

At that, Max almost chuckled because at least that train of thought led to his meeting Val. "Yeah,” he said. This time he looked the three men square in the eye. “They rousted me a couple times, tossed my place, did the good cop/bad cop routine several times. They were tryin' to get me to either admit to it or to give them somewhere to go. They even tried Yvette to see if she'd talk about me. I don't know if the case is still open or not, though."

"Yours, I think," Adam said, glancing at Andrew. "If that friend of yours is still at Quantico?"

"I can call her but that could take a couple of days. Do we wait?"

Jan shook his head. "No. I don't think so. I'll have Clea arrange for the first flight in. Adam?"

The Brit nodded. "I need to call Phyl. She's in Virginia Beach with Jason's grandparents," he said and got up to use the phone.

Jan turned back to Max as Adam left the room. "As we’ve discussed, you are incredibly stubborn. I know if we don’t let you go that you’ll go anyway, Max. So you might as well go with some sanction and some protection," he said.

“But,” and Jan’s tone changed to just this side of a lecture. Max fought down the urge to smirk at Jan’s assessment of what would happen and maintain a calm, blank look on his face. He wasn’t sure how successful his attempt was as Jan continued.

"You need to remember something. Worried as you are about Val, there could be a whole lot more at stake here than just him if this turns out to be something really bad. I’m there is an easy explanation but the last contact with him didn't feel right. I was waiting until the next time he fed since he needs to do that regularly but it hasn’t happened. I don’t need to remind you what can happen if he hasn’t fed.”

Max nodded. He’d seen Val hungry.

“You also need to understand that the Pillars have an agreement with the Kindred. I want to help Val but that agreement needs to stay intact. I’m deadly serious about this, Max. An all out war between the Kindred and the Pillars or even just humans would bring the body count up fast. There are other lives involved here besides just Val's or yours. Andy and Adam to start with since you’d all be immediately in the crosshairs in New Orleans. After that comes Adam’s wife and kids if something happens to him so you keep a rein on it and _think_. Understood?"

Max breathed deeply. Jan had said he could go and he wasn’t going to fuck that up. "Yessir, I can throw some stuff in a bag. That's easy. I’m supposed to be over at the Everetts this weekend, though. Do I say anything?"

"I would so they won't be worried. You can tell them it's related to MATADA." Jan said. "Once you get to New Orleans, where can we find Tevis?"

Tevis. The reason Val was in this fix as far as Max was concerned. "Tevis usually hung out with Val at the Blue Flamingo," he answered. "It's a blues place if you don't know the Kindred. It's a blues place and a feeding ground if you do. The clans seem to mix in there - not easily but they tolerate each other. I used to go there with Yvette when she needed to feed since there are humans there who go for that. I can see if Tevis is there or if anyone has seen him. If you want..." Max added belatedly. If he had to get permission for everything, Max could see where this was going to get really old really fast.

Jan looked a little disconcerted at that. "Did you ever participate in that? Any chance you might have hooks you aren't aware or didn't think about at the time?" Jan asked and he looked at Max with that searching look Max was growing to intensely dislike.

"Only person that's ever bitten me is Val. Once on the roof and once here. And I've never drunk any blood. I doubt anyone would even want to blood bind me."

"Maybe not, but there is a lot we don't know about vampires, Max. And in some cases, you may have had an encounter you don't remember." Jan stared at him a moment longer as if satisfied – or not wanting to waste any more time. “Go get packed.”

Back in his room, Max grabbed his duffel bag and quickly threw some clothes in it. As he rooted around for another T-shirt, his hand touched the note and money Val had left him. He pulled it out and stared at it in his hand for a second before shoving it into the bag. _Give that back to you when I see you._

While waiting for someone to come tell him they were leaving, Max dialed the Everett home and told them that he'd be on a business trip for a few days and would call when he could. He hated the disappointed sound in Tree's voice when he talked to her and told her he'd be back quicker than she thought - besides, this way she could concentrate on football players or something. She promised suitable vengeance for that remark when she saw him next.

Finally all the loose ends were pulled together. Andy and Adam had coverage for Lattice, flights were scheduled and bags packed. The flight seemed to take forever and once they landed, Max was constantly checking faces to see if anyone he knew was suddenly going to pop up out of thin air. Untouchable was fine as a concept but he had yet to see it in practice.

"Expecting someone?" Andy asked lightly.

"Just checking out the scenery. If I go into the Quarter, I'm guaranteed to at least run into Sammy."

"Sammy?" Adam asked.

"Sammy the Snake," Max answered shortly.

"Do all Mafioso have 'the' as a middle name?"

"Yeah," Max said, determined not to let Adam get to him. "It's part of the initiation ritual."

"I could like that," Andrew said with a grin... "Let's see. Andy the...does it have to have alliteration?"

"Like Andy the Ass?" Adam asked mildly. "Andy the Aggravating?"

"No romance in your soul," Andy groused. "Sammy the Snake. Andrew the Anaconda?"

Adam made a noise suspiciously like a laugh as they claimed their bags and caught a cab to the hotel.

It was a mid-range establishment and Max figured someone had pulled some strings to get them the three rooms at the end of one of the halls. The elegance of the old structure was a little faded but still present.

They ended up congregating in Adam's room when they were settled, Max watching the subtle shift as Andrew deferred to his business partner. Adam flopped on the bed at the head and pulled out what looked like a calculator but turned out to be a tiny hand-held computer. Andrew eased his long frame into a chair by the end table, legs stretched out in front of him while Adam searched for something. Max sat down tensely on the end of the bed.

"Hot off Evan's little contact file, "Adam said after a moment. "There are two people here in New Orleans with loose connections to the Pillars. We've used them solely on a pay-for-information basis before and the information has proven to be reliable. They've gotten their money and are really none the wiser as to who was really requesting the information. The third is a better contact but lives in Hattiesburg. We have a Jeanette Nerise and a Mike Collins. Shall we flip a coin?"

Max raised his eyebrows. "I know a Mike Collins. He's the bartender at the Bayou."

Adam turned the hand-held around to show Max the picture. Max nodded at the small picture of a man with a red-tipped Mohawk looking into the camera. “That’s him.”

Adam blinked at Max for a moment. "Now isn't coincidence an interesting concept? So we try the Naked Bayou first. Question though, Max. How much trouble is likely to visit you if you show up there again after the last couple of months?"

"Why? Think I'm going to start something?" Max challenged.

Adam sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose with long, thin fingers. "I am not worried about you getting into trouble, Max. I am worried about trouble finding you. We have enough to worry about and I don't want to be looking one way and then turn around to find out someone is ready to slip a knife in your back.” His voice took on a harsh tone. “I have every intention of getting back on that plane together. Alive and preferably with all body parts intact. That includes you." He pushed off the bed in irritation and went into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

"He doesn't think you are a risk, Max. He thinks you are at risk," Andrew said quietly. "I'll talk to him. Meet us downstairs in thirty."

"No," Adam said as he opened the door and re-entered the bedroom, wiping his face with a damp cloth. The grey eyes met Max's evenly. "I don't really give a shit what you think of me or if you even like me. Not necessary and very likely not deserved given our first meeting. But get this: it was my original intention to come down here alone, see what I could find out, and then call Jan if I needed help. Having Andrew along isn't my idea of subtle either since he stands out like a sore thumb on either plane," Adam said, glancing up at his tall friend with a faint smile.

"Max, we don't know anything.  Val may be perfectly fine or just -- God, I don't know -- but you go out on the town like some kind of avenging angel before we even know if there's anything to avenge and somebody is going to get hurt!" Adam said. "I have no intention of treating you like a child or a liability unless you act like one. Now, are we clear?"

"Clear," Max said, making a resolve to stick to short answers with Adam. There was less chance of chewing on his shoe that way.

"Good. Now that that’s settled, you’re the native guide. Let's go see where you used to work."

"Yes, Bwana," he said, getting up. Andy chuckled but Max doubted Adam was very amused.

As they entered Bourbon Street, the three were assailed by light, noise and crowds. Max had forgotten how much of all three were in abundance in the Quarter during his eight weeks in Atlanta and he stood still for a moment as if re-absorbing the atmosphere of Bourbon Street into his system. Still, he felt a little removed from it all. He wasn't a complete stranger but this was no longer his turf to own; he was here as a visitor only. "Bayou's down that way, gentlemen," he said, gesturing down the block. "I'd advise you to keep your hands on your wallets."

"And why is that?" Adam asked.

At that, Max grinned widely. "'Cause I'm not the only pickpocket that's worked these parts. After you." He very neatly bowed and extended a hand towards the Quarter. 


	15. Into the Bright Night

The three men walked into the crowd, twisting and bending with the press of people entering or exiting various establishments. The smells of food and spilled alcohol were thick and heavy. Loud music from the bars added to the general cacophony around them. Some places strove to merge old New Orleans style with modern day touches while others seemed to regard neon lighting and blinking signs as mandatory. Max ran into one or two people that he knew simply by sight and nodded to them as they passed until they reached the cross street to the Bayou. Adam and Andy started across but Max held back, watching. It garnered him quizzical looks as they noticed their group was one short and stepped back to rejoin Max on the curb.

“What is it?” Andy asked.

“God, he’s bad,” Max said and pointed with his chin at his replacement standing outside the club trying to drum up business.

"Don't tell me there's a hierarchy of hawkers," Andy wanted to know.

"Don't tell me you're still stuck on that alliteration bit," Adam shot back.

"Hey, you're gonna do a job? Do it well,” Max cut in. He stared at the front of the Bayou for a few moments longer before stepping off the curb. As the other men joined him, Max looked over at Adam. "In answer to your earlier question, I shouldn't have any trouble here. Mike was always cool and I doubt Yvette is gonna try and do anything to me in front of witnesses - if she even really cares enough to try. If Sammy shows up, then I guess I get to test out that 'untouchable' thing 'cause he's going to want to know where I've been."

"We'll deal with that if it comes up," Adam said and it sounded like a promise. "Chances are all Andrew will have to do is flex...and smile."

 _Yeah. ‘Cause that’s always worked so well in the past._ Max didn’t speak his thoughts. He wasn’t quite sure what either man would do if Sammy showed up but his experiences had been weird enough to date that he would give the slight edge to his companions now.

Max’s replacement graciously waived the cover fee when Max introduced himself and they stepped inside the Bayou. If anything, it was even warmer and louder than it had been outside. Bright lights shone on the stage, illuminating a young woman with dark, shoulder-length hair who was bumping and grinding to a heavy bass rhythm. Her hips and breasts swayed to the beat. The bright lights picked up the creamy undertones of her skin and the sweat glistening on her body as she moved up to the edge of the stage every now and then so men could show their appreciation by placing bills in her tiny silver G-string.

"Who is that?" Andy yelled in Max’s ear.

"That…is Yvette," Max answered, glad the dim house lighting was hiding his face.

"Really.” A quick glance showed Andy’s gaze traveling between Max and Yvette and back again. Not knowing what to make of that, Max turned to check the bar and was relieved to see the object of their search. He pointed and hollered “”Mike!” to Adam. Adam nodded and shoved Andy towards the bar.

By the time they made their way to the bar, Mike had turned his back and was washing a glass but Max could see his reflection in the large glass mirrors that hung on the back wall and knew Mike could see him. "Hey, can I get a beer?" he asked.

Mike glanced up into the mirror and made eye contact with Max. The two stared at each other for a moment and then Mike turned around. "Didn’t think I’d be seeing you back here,” he said. “Sammy’s been asking about you. Don’t think you’re on his friends list.”

“Never really was,” Max said shortly. “ ‘preciate if you don’t let on I’m back in town.” He pointed to the men beside him. “Friends of mine.”

Mike seemed to consider this request as he studied Adam and Andy. “Your friends drinking?”

“Yeah.” Max turned to his companions and indicated they should order. Drinks would make conversation seem normal and despite whatever it said in that little handheld of Adam’s, he knew a hefty tip would go a long way towards Mike’s ability to assist.

The music was loud in his ears and his feet throbbed in time with the bass beat. He could smell sweat, cheap cologne and alcohol, and it combined in a mix that was starting to make him a little nauseous. It also seemed much closer in the Bayou than he remembered. He could feel sweat prickling on his scalp and underneath his T-shirt while the press of people seemed almost claustrophobic. That surprised Max. He’d never noticed anything like that before. Then again, maybe he’d really never had anything else to compare it to until he’d moved to Atlanta.

He was waiting on Mike to get their drinks so Adam could start asking his questions when something rocketed into him from behind and he had to catch himself against the bartop. His coughed as the air was forcibly expelled from his lungs and he caught an amused smirk on Mike’s face before he turned around and saw his ex-girlfriend. "Yvette! Hey, cher."

"Where have you been?" she asked, planting her index finger in his chest with each word. Each finger stab made her breasts jiggle underneath the flimsy faux-silk robe she was wearing. "You go away for what's supposed a weekend and then that little sweet Val comes by and tells me you're not coming back and I can have your apartment?"

"Well, yeah..."

Before he could say anything else, Yvette placed one hand on either side of him on the bar top and leaned in to kiss him, pressing her body up against him and aggressively deepening the kiss the moment their mouths met. Max found himself automatically responding, sucking on Yvette’s tongue. Whatever their problems had been – and God knew there had been problems – the sex had always been _great_. He felt her breasts pressing against him, nipples hard, and pushed his thigh between her legs. He could feel the heat of her body through his jeans and his hands moved to her hips, fingers splayed across her ass which was naked underneath the robe. She moved in even closer and straddled his leg. Then, dimly, Max heard someone speak.

“Were they always like this?”

Mike chuckled. “You should have seen them when they were making up after a fight.”

Max broke the kiss at the reminder they had an audience but was still very aware of Yvette draped against him. “Sorry,” he muttered. He looked back at Yvette. “Talk to you later?

She nodded a little wildly and flounced off after one last kiss and a sly look at Max’s companions.

"Sorry," he apologized again, belatedly wiping lipstick off his mouth when he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror.

"Oh, Max. I have to hang around with you more," Andrew said watching Yvette move away with real appreciation in his gaze. "Very, very nice friends you have."

"Now, how can I help you?" Mike asked.

"We're with some people who have...used you before," Adam said. "We are looking for Valentine Everett. Remember him?" he asked, leaning across the bar. "About my height, looks to be about twenty years old.”

"Might,” Mike said as he glanced up and down the bar. “Not sure the last time I saw him, though. Lots of people coming in and out of here and everyone starts to look the same after a while unless they’re a really good tipper.” He broke off to motion the other bartender to go fill an order. “You got a need to find him?" he asked casually.

"Yes," Adam said. "If not him, then a friend of his named Tevis Ballitia."

“Black guy,” Max put in. “Beads in his hair. I think he’s Jamaican or something.”

Mike appeared to think about it. “Maybe. But if I’m thinking of the right guys, this isn’t really their kind of place, is it?” When Max shook his head, Mike continued. “I think at least the Tevis guy might have been here a little bit ago.”

"How long ago was that?" Adam asked. "He seems to have disappeared."

At that, Mike shrugged. “Closest I can give you is some time in the last three weeks or so. Can’t really say for sure.” Mike picked up a bar rag and began wiping down the area in front of him.

Max broke in, ignoring the look Adam gave him. “He say what he want?”

Mike furrowed his brow as he tried to think back, excusing himself to go fill an order. Coming back, he propped his elbows on the bar and leaned in, the better to be heard without having to yell. "All I remember is he seemed pretty fidgety. Kept looking at the door like he was waiting for someone. He watched Maggie dance for a bit and when she was done, he talked to her. After that, he spoke to Yvette. Then he came over here, had a drink and left. Haven't seen him since."

"And Val?" Max pressed.

"I don't think I've seen him around at all." Straightening up, Mike grabbed the empties. "You might want to talk to the girls."

Max looked at the other two. "Either of you mind if I go do that?" They shook their heads nearly in tandem so Max ducked around the corner of the bar and went into the back dressing area to find Maggie and Yvette. Maggie was easy; she was out in the hall using the payphone. She didn't remember either Tevis or Val.

He found Yvette getting changed for her next act and pulled up a chair out of habit, spinning it around to sit backwards with his arms crossed over the chair back. She didn't seem disinclined to talk to him so he spent a few minutes idly chatting, then asked about Val. Yvette didn't really remember him beyond Val's visit to Max's - now her - apartment.

She did remember Tevis. "He was asking about you." As she spoke, she leaned into the mirror and bared her fangs, wiping a slight smear of dark red lipstick off one of them before closing her mouth and smiling at her reflection.

Max sat back, startled. "Me? Why?"

Yvette shrugged. "I don't know. He just said that he wanted to meet Val's friend." Looking in the mirror, she adjusted the corset and g-string. "So where are you now, cher? What'cha got that you couldn't come back?"

He opened his mouth to answer but something cautioned him not to say too much. "Nowhere special. Just got tired of the Quarter. You know how it goes. Wanted to try something different and found a place to land."

"And your friends?"

Max slowly got up off the chair and stood upright. "Just some guys I know, cher. Speaking of, I need to get back and make sure Maggie hasn't made 'em spend all their money yet. See you later?"

"Hope so," Yvette said, flashing him a wide smile. She turned from her reflection in the mirror and came over to him. Pressing up against Max, she kissed him with the same fervor she had in the bar before nipping his lower lip with a fang and drawing away with a slow caress of his chest. “Miss you, cher,” she purred and brought up her hand to wipe away the drop of blood on his lip before bringing her finger to her mouth and slowly licking the blood away.

“Yeah…” he said. “See you.”

He found Andy and Adam waiting for him back at the bar but didn’t see Mike near them. “That was weird,” Max said as he leaned his elbows on the bar. “ ‘vette said Tevis was asking about me – that he wanted to meet me.”

"Have you ever met Tevis before?" Andy asked.

"No. Val talked about him but he and I never really met as in shaking hands and formal introductions." Max sighed. His head was starting to hurt from the music and he wanted to be far away from this place which appeared to be nothing more than a dead end now anyway. "What next? You guys want to see the Flamingo?"

"The blues bar? Yes," Adam said. "But," he glanced at Andrew.  "Feel like seeing if anything escapes out the side rather than jumping in the middle? I would hate for you to start a feeding frenzy."

"You aren't going to let me have any fun, are you?" Andrew said but led the way outside with only one lingering glance at the dancers.

At Adam's urging, Max guided them through the crowd to the Flamingo. Unlike many of the establishments on Bourbon Street, the doors were closed instead of thrown open to invite customers and tourists in. Adam stopped just outside the entrance and Andrew stood at his back, not quite touching him.

"Christ," Adam murmured and closed his eyes for a moment.

“What?” Max asked. It almost looked as if Adam was going to faint.

"Maybe you should take a breather," Andy said quietly, resting a hand on Adam's shoulder. "You and Jan were at it pretty hard this morning."

"It's okay,” Adam reassured him. “There are just so many of them. Famine to feast."

"That is not exactly a reassuring analogy at the moment," Andrew said. "It’s going to be tough for me to pay pitch and catch out here."

"We'll just have to rely on my and Max's lightning reflexes then," Adam said with a shaky smirk. "Come on, Max. Let's go have some meaningful conversations with some vampires."

"I'll be close," Andrew said.

Adam nodded and took a deep breath. "Onward,” he muttered and looked none too happy with the prospect.

The confines of the Blue Flamingo were cooler and quieter. There were no live musicians that night and Delta blues floated down from hidden speakers as people gathered at tables. The hum of conversation was audible but not distinct enough to gather what any one person might be saying. Several people looked up at their entrance but then returned their attention to their drinks or their tablemates.

"Anyone you know?" Adam asked as he scanned the crowded bar.

"Oh yeah," Max breathed. He began pointing out regulars. Petey was behind the bar as usual and he guessed Ronnie would be in her office watching the goings-on from behind the one-way mirror. He didn't see Gabe around and was relieved. Gabe's particular brand of chatter would have scraped on his already frayed nerves right about then. There were one or two others that he recognized from the times he and Yvette had been in the club but it wasn't until he began checking out the corner tables that it got interesting.

"Shit!" he cursed. "Just great."

"What?"

"The big, black guy over in the corner is Crispin Johnson. Looks like Laurence Fishburne? He’s the Brujah Primogen," Max told them.

Adam's eyes narrowed, mouth set in a hard line. "Lovely gentleman. Fed recently and with a kill...He is on Evan's list. The Brujah should rule this city but they don't." Adam said. "But they would like to," he said thoughtfully. "What do you know about him?"

"Yvette and I ran into him the day after she became a vampire. We followed him because she recognized his car. Vault had gotten into it - or one just like it - the night he made her. When the car stopped, we decided to bluff and ask directions like we were lost. The window rolled down and we gave him a fake street name. He very charmingly gave us directions to a nonexistent street and then rolled up the window again. We went around the corner and watched. Couple moments later, some high class hooker came out, got in the car and off they went."

"One of Vault's stable?" Adam asked.

"Nope." Max shook his head. "Lila was an independent. Ended up getting beheaded that night as well." He shuddered slightly at the memory of the headless corpse in the alley. "Besides, Vault was a Ventrue from what I was told. Can't see where the Mafia and anarchists would be mixing and mingling just for the pleasure of each other's company."

"You might be surprised," Adam said. "Elements of Chaos are always drawn to each other. God, he makes me sick just looking at him," he said almost under his breath and turned his gaze away. "Let's make this fast. The more I see, the less I like leaving Andrew alone."

"You want to try talking to Petey? He's Ronnie's right hand guy. Pimps for her and the other vamps by finding people who like to be bit. That's actually how he and I first met. He pointed me out to a vampire named Henri, thinking I wanted it."

"I am all for having a plan at this point," Adam said but his voice was strained.

Max took a quick look at the other man. Despite his initial dislike of Adam and the lingering anger over what he felt was Adam’s rather high-handed manner at times, he didn’t want the guy to hurt himself or anything. "Adam? You all right? You want me to get Andrew?"

"No," Adam said. "The last thing we want is that oversized lighthouse beacon in here. Remind me sometime to show you what Andrew looks like to anyone who can see or feel him when he isn't toning it down to a dull roar. What you saw at Jan’s is nothing.” He took a slow deep breath and exhaled in the same manner. “Let’s talk to Petey."

Max pushed toward the bar and Adam followed but he let Max do the talking, his eyes on the crowd. There was something not right aside from the fact that a good third of the patrons were vampires. The volatility he expected was not there. Tracking its source was a bitch but Adam kept at it, only barely listening to Max's conversation with Petey.

Max did much the same dance with Petey as they had with Mike but didn't learn much new information. He did find out that Val had come into the Flamingo several times since his return to New Orleans - sometimes accompanied by Tevis and sometimes on his own. Max's letter had arrived shortly before Petey had last seen Val in the Flamingo. He'd come in with Tevis one night and stayed a while. When Petey had seen Val, he'd given the young vampire the letter. Since then, neither Val nor Tevis had been in.

While Max talked, Adam continued to scan. When his gaze lit on the Brujah Primogen, the vampire met it almost mockingly. Adam kept his gaze steady even when the man rose and began to make his way over to them. As he watched the Primogen approach, he saw the vampire’s gaze switch from Adam to Max and a slow smile start to spread across his face.  

"Heads up, Max." Adam murmured. "I think you are about to become the social director for our little cruise. Make the introductions, would you?"

That was one of the last things Max wanted to do but...join the party, play the game. He tried to make sure his face was blank as he looked at Crispin walking their way, sliding his hands casually into his pockets as the large, handsome man came up to them and stopped expectantly. His eyes flicked from Adam to Max and Max didn’t think it was necessarily in identification. Odds were the Primogen more than likely recognized him. Rather, it was almost as if the Brujah was holding court and expected anyone he targeted to serve him.

"Crispin Johnson, Adam Johnston," he dragged out reluctantly, waving a hand between both men.

“And you are?” Crispin asked.

“Max,” Max answered shortly.

“No last name?”

“Gave it up for Lent.” Max felt Adam stiffen beside him. _Yeah, let’s play Antagonize the Vampire, Griffin. Excellent choice,_ he berated himself.

"Charming superstition,” Crispin said and reached out to shake Adam’s hand. Max saw Adam smile in a way that nearly matched the Brujah’s. "You are visiting our fair city?" He asked, eyes once more falling on Max.

"A bit more business," Adam said coolly and Max had to give the man style points. "Scouting. A little sight-seeing. We seemed to have misplaced some local talent."

"And what talent would that be?" Crispin asked, leaning on the bar between Max and Adam and the door.

"Performers. Street performer, actually," Adam said easily and edged Max to the outside of his stance. "Young man named Valentine Everett."

The Brujah closed his eyes and thought for a long moment. "I know most of the street talent in New Orleans but can’t say I’ve heard of him. You would be an agent, then?"

"Of sorts," Adam said, having to force himself not to grind out the words. The man was lying. Worse, he knew Adam knew it. Adam figured it was time to let Johnson known who he was dealing with and pulled out his wallet. Reaching in, he grabbed a business card and handed it over. “If you see him, please have him contact me. We are staying at La Coeur for the moment."

The Primogen's eyes narrowed as he looked at the card and saw the MATADA logo and the stylized Doric column on the side; a pillar. He rubbed a thick dark thumb over the graphic. "I have heard of this...theatre. Quite the varied productions." He pocketed the card. "You don't normally scout this far south."

"We don't usually need to," Adam said evenly, watching something ugly uncoil from the Brujah's aura.

"Perhaps we should talk more privately," Crispin intoned, his attention now fully on Adam as if Max didn't exist.

"I think not. You know us actor types. We prefer the public arena," Adam said and strove to keep his tone genial. "Any help you could give us in locating Valentine would be greatly appreciated."

"Is there a finder's fee?"

"Depends on what I find," Adam said and Crispin stiffened as if offended. Looking around, Max could see other patrons reacting in the same manner. Another, closer look and Max could see Andrew leaning casually in the doorway of the Flamingo.

"I'll keep it in mind," Crispin said.

"Please do," Adam leaned forward and smiled. "My best to your Prince," he said softly and then moved, hooking Max's elbow and guiding him toward where Andrew was waiting. By the time they got there, Adam was holding onto Max as much to stay upright as anything. His movements had become slightly less smooth and a thin sheen of sweat covered him.

Andrew made no move to touch him, just fell in behind. "You want to tell me why you just made yourself the most likely candidate for hors 'd'oeuvres of the day?"

"He knows where Val is," Adam said tersely.

Max snapped his head around to look at Adam, mouth open to demand why the hell the other man hadn't pressed the Brujah on that point or done something to get them that information. Adam's physical appearance stopped him. He looked gray and clammy. His hand was heavy on Max’s arm, gripping it tightly above the elbow for several more steps until he jerked Max sideways and they stumbled into an alley. A moment later, Adam was violently ill, leaning against the brick wall and vomiting bile.

"Do we get you something or try to make it back?" Andrew said.

"Let's get back," Adam said weakly. "God...I was not prepared for that. No wonder Evan helped put someone else in the Prince's seat."

"Wait a minute." Max had the uncomfortable feeling that while three people were here, only two of them were having a conversation. "One of you guys helped put Anis in power?" he asked incredulously.

"Having met Mr. Johnson, I understand it better," Adam said as he wiped his mouth. "But I think a phone call to Evan is in order. This 'need to know' bullshit he is pulling again is wearing thin and we've only been here a few hours."

"We're back at Weird Shit that needs explaining," Max shot back. Adam was still leaning against the wall but Andy's face took on a slightly harder cast, warning Max in a way that didn't come across friendly that the young man was about to find himself over the line and out of New Orleans.

"All right, explaining Weird Shit becomes Lesson #2," Max backed down. "Explaining Weird Shit when I need to know the answers is now Lesson #1," he agreed tiredly. As much to get away from the look on Andy's face as to cover up his own frustration at the short leash he was on, he turned back to Adam. "You need some help?" he asked.

"Just don't let me fall on my face," Adam said. "Andrew can run interference for the rest."

They left the alley with Adam holding lightly onto Max's arm as they moved against the majority of the crowd. Max found himself positioning his body in front of Adam, trying to deflect the majority of the rough body contact from the other man. Once back at the car, Andy unlocked the doors and Max waited until Adam got himself inside before climbing into the back. At the hotel, they went back to Adam's room where Andy picked up the phone and ordered room service. While they waited, he told Max to outline the information Petey had given him.

"Jan lost him four days ago," Adam said. He was stretched out on the bed, eyes closed but he seemed alert enough. "But the last time anyone saw him was two, three weeks ago. I think we really need to find his lover."

"Nobody's really seen him, though, either," Max pointed out. "Unless he's just staying out of the Quarter. If he is, he's probably spending most of his time at Madeleine's."

Andrew placed the food order then disappeared into his room through the connecting door to Adam's and returned with a foil wrapped fruit bar. Adam eyed it distastefully but sat up and opened it. He bit into it chewing slowly.

"So what did you see?" Andrew asked.

"Something – and I know that isn’t particularly helpful,” Adam began. “But there's a real power play going on at that club and Crispin is at the center of it. I'm not familiar enough with the clans to identify them on sight but there was a real deference toward Crispin. It was tense, though, new. This isn't the respect one would expect for just a Primogen. This was something else. And he is blooded...heavily." Adam had to take a deep breath to clear the disgust. "My guess would be that something has happened of a demonstrative nature. There was enough violence on him to remind me of a gang fight."

"What do you mean?" Max asked, pushing his hair out of his eyes and leaning toward Adam. "Did he...?"

"It's hard to explain, Max," Adam said quietly, meeting the younger man's anxious gaze. "Strong emotions leave signatures...or traces...to my eyes anyway. Those clear colors you saw on Pete and on Andrew which, by the way, are how I see people, follow certain patterns. They aren't consistent exactly but certain patterns and intensities equal certain emotions and actions. That bright gold of Andrew's? Think positive, powerful, near pure. Children look like that all the time. Darker emotions aren't clear. They are muddy or duller. It almost looks like the bright colors you see on top of an oil slick.”

"And what you saw told you?" Max asked. The color theory he could readily buy after his first experience with MATADA and Adam was actually talking to him, telling him things. He wanted to keep this connection going as long as he could and see if he could pick up anything that would help Val.

"He knows where Val is. I'm surprised he told such a bald-faced lie except he knew I wasn't really in a position to challenge him," Adam sighed and rubbed his face, looking worn out. "Luckily he doesn’t know I was mostly bluffing. He'll want to think about that."

There was a knock at the door and Andy got up to answer it, coming back with food. He made a plate for Adam and handed it to him, then did the same for he and Max before sitting down again.

Max took a bite and set the plate down. It all tasted like wet sand anyway and he wanted to get back to how to find Val. Leaning back against the wall, he brought up one leg and rested his arm on his bent knee. "Tevis is human, like me. That means he can see and be seen during the day which Maddy can't. My guess would be if he's here, he's running her errands. One way to find out would be to knock on the door of Chez Madeleine."

"Better to catch him during the day, then," Andrew said, then watched as Adam excused himself and went into the bathroom again. They could hear water running but Andy didn't say anything.

"If it's during the day, she's not going to be able to even wake up to answer my knock," Max argued. "Either that or it's a lot of sittin' in the park to see if he ever shows his face. I don't think Crispin is going to be telling you or me anything."

"Don't be too sure,” Andy cautioned. “If Adam's bluff worked, he is probably having some interesting conversations of his own right now. If you know how to get to Madeleine's, I think we can plan a little early morning foray and then maybe see if we can find that Ms. Nerise that was on Evan's list."

The water stopped and Adam re-emerged, pulling his shirt off which was damp. He slipped by Andrew, reaching for the phone and Max got a glimpse of a long low scar just above the waistband of his jeans on the left side. Max was familiar enough with those kinds of mementos to have no doubt that it was from a knife or that it had been deep. There were other smaller scars on him, nothing the scope of either Max's or even the one on Andrew's chest but enough to show that whatever kind of life Adam had led had not been necessarily a peaceful one.

"Clea? Adam," he spoke into the phone, grabbing for the juice that was left over from his dinner. "If Evan has more information on exactly what he brokered within the clans here, I want it." He listened, face set and gaze darkening.

"Then tell him if I fuck this up, I will consider it done with his blessing," he snapped. "Better yet tell him that his negotiations are falling through and that his deposed Brujah princeling seems to be making overtures toward the throne," he said and waited again, relaxing slightly and Andrew bit his lip to keep from laughing. He leaned over toward Max.

"Never, never play poker with Adam," he whispered and grinned as Adam shot him a dirty look.

"I'll expect it tomorrow morning," he said in a more pleasant tone and hung up, glancing back at the other two men. His expression was at odds with the tone he’d just used in completing his phone call. "Be prepared to be totally on our own by tomorrow."

"On our own?" Max repeated. "Why?"

"Because in the grand scheme of things, Val isn't important enough for the Pillars to intervene for his sake alone," Adam said. "This is an uneasy truce at best and Val is a vampire. No matter who else or what else he is, he belongs to this side. We're not done yet, Max but, strong as Andrew is, he can't take on the entire annoyed population of Brujah Vampires by himself. And a lot of people who don't even know vampires exist could get caught up in this if we aren't careful."

"Is there any way to find out if the Brujah are actually moving?" Max wanted to know. "Brujah and Toreador have no use for the other but if there is a power struggle going on, Madeleine's going to want to make sure she's on the winning side."

"We'll take it into consideration," was the only response he got.

It seemed Adam’s willingness to share was at an end so Max nodded and stood up. "Anything else?" When they shook their heads at him, he asked, "OK if I use the phone in my room to make a call? I can pay for it when we check out."

"I'm not worried about who’s paying. I am worried about who you’re calling," Andrew said.

He opened his mouth and then stopped his first sentence midway through. "I'm going to call Tr…Pete.” Max could feel himself flush under the regard of both men. “Figured I should check in and, uh, see what’s happening.”  

"Uh-huh," Andy said. "You know they print the phone numbers out on the hotel bills." He laughed at Max's stricken look. "Go on."

In his room, Max looked at the phone like it was a snake. _For fuck’s sake,_ he told himself. _She’s a girl. You have really got to get over this._ Too bad it seemed easier said than done. Picking up, he dialed the Everetts’ number and Hugh answered. Max talked to him for a few minutes, managing to stretch the truth to make the night’s events seem like the business trip he’d said he was on. When Hugh didn’t ask any other questions, Max took a breath and asked if he could talk to Tree.

She came on the line and he spent a few minutes listening to her talk about her day. Then she asked how he was doing. "Okay," he told her, "but this town definitely isn't for me anymore."

There was a short pause. "Good," she said firmly, making Max wonder if she'd thought that maybe once he was back in New Orleans, he’d decide to stay.

"No worries," he reassured her. What he didn’t say was that Bourbon Street seemed more oppressive than he remembered. The life he’d lived here had the half-remembered quality of a bad dream where you don’t remember the specifics, just the uneasy feeling you experience on waking up. “Atlanta’s a better place for me.”

“Yes, it is.” That emphatic nature of that statement warmed his heart. Tree might want things from Max but they were good things. Plus, she wanted things for him. He didn’t think he and Yvette had ever really cared that much about each other and their relationship had been more a way to stave off loneliness than anything else; drama as a way to feel alive. He briefly wondered how alive Yvette felt these days or if she even cared any more. Tree cared. Tree even--

“Max?” came Tree’s voice.

“Just thinking.”

“What about?”

“That, um…” It was just a phrase but it was one of the few times in his life Max had truly meant it. He wanted to know if she felt the same way but was almost afraid to find out. “Fuck,” he muttered and then realized he’d said it out loud. “Sorry,” he apologized and then sighed as his brain suggested he spit it out. “I was thinking that, I, uh….that I love you.”

He had no idea what her response was because his brain began flailing wildly at his audacity and he hung up the phone, all the while cursing himself for being a chickenshit. Max stared at it for several minutes before deciding anything he tried to follow up with tonight was not going to help the situation _at all_.

Shaking himself out of his stupor, Max looked at the clock. It was still prime time for New Orleans nightlife and he could feel his body clock respond ever so slightly to the pull to go and join the crowded streets.

Getting up, he paced in a small circle while he thought. He’d have to be quiet but he could probably get out of his room and the hotel without alerting Andy or Adam. It wouldn’t hurt to go back and check with Mike or Yvette. They might know something they didn’t say earlier or something might have jogged their memories since then.

A course of action decided, Max shoved his wallet back into his pocket and quietly opened the door to his room. He didn’t see anyone and stepped out into the hall. As he turned back to shut the door, it slammed shut in his face, making him yelp in surprise.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Andrew was standing in the doorway to his own room, leaning casually against the door jamb wearing only his pajama bottoms. He had his arms crossed over his chest and the look on his face was far less casual than his stance.

"Did I ever bother to tell you how much I hate it when I don't get enough sleep?" he asked evenly, not smiling. "If I have to stay up all night or you wake me up because you have an urge to play commando, you are really going to learn what a short leash is." Andrew said. "Go to bed, Max, and stay there. I don't care if you sleep. Just stay put," he said. He gave a nod and the door to Max’s room opened.

Max stared at Andy with his mouth open. “Stay. Put.” Andy turned away and the door to his room shut before Max could comment.

Max mutely shook his head as he shut the door behind him. Why the hell had Jan told him to rein it in and think if these guys knew what the hell he was going to do every damn second of the day? His frustration at a peak, Max balled up his fist and punched the wall next to the window as hard as he could and was greeted by a sound that could have been a knuckle popping.

He dropped back down to the bed and rolled over on his side, cradling his hand to his chest and clenching his jaw until the first sharp wave of pain passed. When it subsided, he carefully flexed his hand, hissing as he did so. He could move it so he hadn't broken anything but it was definitely going to be sore. Sitting up, he stared glumly at the door.

He thought he heard a stirring from one of the rooms. "Relax, Andy," he said to the air. "I'm not going anywhere. I'd hate for you to miss your freakin' beauty sleep." Reluctantly he shut off the lights and lay back down on the bed. He didn’t bother to undress. Instead, Max just stared into the dark until he finally fell asleep.


	16. And the Dawn's Early Light

Andy was the first sight Max saw when he opened his eyes. A glance told Max he was still in his room which meant Andy had somehow gotten in and had been sitting there waiting for Max to wake up. _No, that’s not creepy at_ all, Max thought. “Taking up stalking, McAran?”

“Just thought I’d see if your hard head needed some more work.”

"Look, I'm still here," Max mumbled, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and rubbing his eyes as he sat up.

"Thank you for that much," Andrew said.

He sighed. The frustration had only ebbed during the night while he'd slept. It was still there right under the surface. "Andy, I'm trying. It's hard to let someone else call the shots for me when I've been doing it for myself for years." Max got up and went into the bathroom. He ran some water and splashed his face, trying to make himself feel more alert. "And then when Jan asked me about working for the Mafia and not asking questions, it was like he...was disapproving,” he called back into the room. “But when I try and ask questions, I get told that I'll find out when I really, really need to know." He stepped back out, shrugged off last night's T-shirt and replaced it with a fresh one, his hand grazing his scar as he pulled it down and tucked it in. "Who decides when I really, really need to know, Andy? I don't want to fuck up the Pillars' agreement with the Clans but I feel like I'm walking in the dark here and no one will hand me a match."

"Welcome to the Pillars, then, Max," Andy said. He pulled out the chair at the desk and sat down. "We aren't trying to keep secrets from you. But Adam and I and Jan and even Evan frequently work in the dark -- making our way the best we can and trying not to do more harm than good. The truth is that the only reason we’re here is because Jan took the personal responsibility for Val's welfare. That was a promise he made and he doesn't take those things lightly any more than he takes lightly your desire to make a fresh start. Only here, you’re dragged right back into the same situation we just tried to help you escape from."

He held up his hand as Max opened his mouth. "I know you’re here for Val just as Adam and I both know that if it comes down to it, you will do whatever it takes to find him and free him from whatever mess he’s found himself in. We want the same thing. We really do but if we make a mistake, if we piss off the wrong people, then we could all end up very dead. And who will be there for Val then?" he said softly. "And how does Jan explain to the Everetts or to Phyl that you and Adam aren't coming back?"

"But if it's just me that goes out there and does…whatever, why is anyone else involved?" was the only way Max could think to put it.

"Because when you open yourself up to other people, they become a part of you and vice versa. And if you work within the Pillars, it’s not just the Everetts or Adam's family or Jan that you are responsible for, it's all the lives connected to them as well. Lives that don't even know you exist. That's why Jan had you wait to get settled. Max, I have been working with this organization for fifteen years and I have never regretted my choice. Adam has been working at it for five and he questions his choices, the strictures under which he has to work every day. But he does it because no one else can do what he does. That makes us need him more than he needs us so the only thing that keeps him at it is himself. But he can only stand so many losses before he might decide it's not worth it. Do you understand what I am saying?"

"Yeah, I guess so. I just never thought about it that way," Max said after a moment. "I've been working independent for so long that having ties to...well, to anyone...is still something I think I can discard when I need to...or when it's convenient," he allowed. "Or when it gets too hard. I'll work on it, OK, Andy?"

"Good enough," Andrew said with a grin.

"So what's on the agenda for today?" Max asked both for the need to know what they were going to do to find Val and to get the focus off himself.

"Adam got his package from Evan so let's go find out what he knows,” Andy said. “Both of us will try to be a little more forthcoming in information."

"And I'll try to work on downgrading myself from complete idiot," Max agreed, grinning. "Deal?"

"Deal," Andy agreed. "Although I will say that none of us think of you as a complete idiot."

"Gee, I feel better already." They walked to Adam's room. As Max put his hand on the door, Andy asked, "How's Theresa?"

"Fine," Max said and then stopped dead. He half-turned and saw Andy attempting an innocent look. "I think you enjoy this way too much, McAran," he said as he opened the door.

"What does Andy enjoy?" Adam's voice asked him. He was sitting at the room's small table with some papers spread out before him. He looked up in time to see Max mutely shake his head and sit down on the bed, looking anywhere but Andy. "Ah, Theresa Everett." He looked over to his partner. "Really, Andy, you should at least let him eat breakfast before you start in on him," he said dryly. "He does seem to have this bizarre shyness about the whole thing."

"Duly noted," Andy agreed.

Max put his head in his hands. "God, it's like working with Laurel and Hardy," he said to the floor. "I don't suppose we could just talk about whatever it is that Evan sent you?"

"We can although it's not as much as I had hoped for," Adam said. He tapped the papers together and took a sip of water before he began.

"Basically, there were some problems with some Brujah extremists in Philadelphia about forty years ago. The Pillars moved in to disperse the problem. The city was under a Brujah at the time. They split the clan -- the alternative being the biggest vampire hunt since the middle ages. Some Brujah were sent to New Orleans which was, at the time, under Ventrue rule. When that Ventrue was toppled about seven or eight years ago, the Brujah tried to take over. The Pillars didn’t want another Ventrue but they were even more loath to see another Brujah-dominated city so they brokered a deal with the Toreadors. Long story, short the new prince wouldn't try and annihilate the Brujah and the Brujah would keep their activities contained. Anis stays in power partly because the Pillars are watching, however intermittently, and because no one wants the Masquerade broken."

"Was Crispin around then?” Max asked. “If so, I don't imagine he took it too well."

"It took a couple of years of finagling, but yes, they basically became allies for a specific purpose. Crispin seemed to take it well at the time but then he was one of those that came here from Philly. What the Pillars have noticed is that Brujah numbers have increased rather exponentially in the last few years which means Crispin has been busy or he has been recruiting."

"So if Evan put Anis in power, was Maddy part of the deal or did she manage to become Toreador Primogen on her own?"

"He doesn't mention her so my guess is that she managed that on her own. There are only a few names here.” Adam looked up from the papers and directly at Max. “One of those is your old boss, Vault. Interesting tidbit about him. Guess who used to be Prince of New Orleans?"

_This just keeps getting better and better_ , Max thought, closing his eyes for a second. When he opened them, he saw Adam still waiting for his response. "One Jonathan Vault, right?"

"Vault, exactly. He would have had the strongest claim to the Princedom if something happened to Anis. But the only one who could get that close to Anis would be...?" Adam offered dryly.

"I think I'm starting to get the picture and from the look on your face, I'm really going to dislike whatever's behind door number three," Max said.

"According to Evan's sources with the FBI, they are investigating Vault's death with the others because of his ties to the Mafia. And..." Adam put a piece of paper on the table in front of Max. "There's a warrant out for you, Max. A federal warrant."

Max forced himself to pick up the paper and look at it. There it was in black and white: his name, date of birth, aliases, and previous convictions. They were all neatly typed out under the notification of a federal warrant. There was even a copy of an old arrest photo clipped to it. "Damn," he tried to say lightly but it sounded flat and tired to his ears. "They're certainly thorough, aren't they? Although I don't think that's my best side." He kept the report in his hands and ran his fingers along the outer rims of the page. "Is this too much of a liability? You want me to go back to Atlanta?" he asked, looking at Adam and dreading the answer.

"No," Adam said finally. "You know the people here. And I'm certain you can keep yourself out of trouble." A look passed between him and Andy.

Max just nodded, then forced the next words out. "I will go, though...if you tell me."

Adam smiled with genuine gratitude and approval. "I don't think it's necessary," he said and glanced down at the papers under his hand. His mouth quirked. "I reserve the right to remind you of that, though," he said and Andrew snickered.

Max set down the copy of the warrant and worked instead to focus on the conversation at hand. "If Maddy made Primogen under her own power, she's gonna want to keep it. She may like her cousin but she probably likes being Primogen more - at least from what I remember."

"I think she may want more than that," Adam said. "But a coup requires you bargain from a position of power and have support. My guess is that she is biding her time to gain that."

"I never saw Crispin at any of Vault's little functions or meetings but then Vault tended to deal more with the old boy network on a lot of things - the more well-established connections. He'd check out the new boys from time to time but they rarely held his interest. Did Evan say if Crispin has anything going that might have attracted my late, unlamented capo?"

"No, Mr. Johnson has been the model of public propriety," Adam said, rubbing his lip with his forefinger.

"If Crispin was getting into the flesh trade, would he..." Nah, it just seemed too weird. Max corrected himself. Nothing was too weird anymore. "To bring the newbies down, you had to have coyotes. Mostly that was men that Vault trusted that were already in place up there. Say Crispin is bringing down bodies but they're not all for sale on the street." This next one was a reach and he fully expected to be shot down. "You can't transplant too many people from one place to another without someone noticing unless they're people no one keeps track of, right? What if he was bringing them down and selling some but turning others into Brujah? Increasing his ranks that way?"

Adam sat back and raised his eyebrows. “Go on?”

"He's got his pick of who he wants that way," Max tried to explain his idea. "He wants some bad-ass fighters; he's got 'em. No police department in the country is gonna lament the loss of a couple of their worst nightmares. He wants other types? They shouldn't be too hard to find, either."

"And the Brujah are anarchists. Yet they remain under Toreador rule...or would," Adam said softly. "The agreement is that a Toreador must be Prince, but what if you had a Toreador Prince and a Brujah Primogen as second-in-command instead of a Toreador Prince with a Toreador Primogen as the second?"

"You've got a lot of trouble is what you've got," Max said. "You've got the pretty face of the Masquerade in power with the brute force waiting in the shadows."

"Now how could we find out what Crispin has been up to since Vault's death or even what Vault's replacement has been doing?" Andrew asked.

"Well, there might be one way to find out," Max offered. "I can hunt up Sammy."

"No, no, you can't, Max. You go looking for him and you may well jeopardize the mark on you."

"Well, with this--" Max picked up the papers and put them down again. "I can't very well walk into the police department and ask to be directed to the latest Crime Watch reports." He rubbed his eyes and ran his hands through his hair. "Why would just finding Sammy possibly jeopardize the mark anyway? I thought it only disappeared if I was active."

"Actively seeking, Max,” Andrew explained. “What Jan did is non-discretionary. It’s not a smart spell. It just...is.”

"But...couldn't I do it?” Max pressed. “Just talk to him. I don't necessarily have to go anywhere with him or do anything. And seeing how Andy apparently has me tagged already, couldn't he just use that if I start to go in the wrong direction? Don't even bother with the short leash - make it a choke chain." They finally had a way to look for Val and Max wasn’t going to let it slip away.

"No. I don't have Jan's skill in this. I can't be sure," Adam said, getting agitated again and it occurred to Max that Adam was  _worried_  about him. That wasn’t under any of the emotions or traits Max had assigned to the man based on their previous interactions and it mentally set him back on his heels for a moment.

"But if Sammy came to Max," Andrew said and Adam looked at him blankly for a moment. "If we could find Sammy and oh, let him know that Max was available?"

"You are evil and devious," Adam said in a congratulatory tone. "That might work. Where can we find him, Max?"

"Benton took up residence in Vault's old place. Sammy probably spends the majority of his time there."

"Now that does present a problem," Andrew said and began pacing.

"Anyone you could tell, casually, that you were back in town?" Adam asked.

"Mike,” Max said firmly. “He doesn’t work for Benton and never worked for Vault. But Sammy used to stop by a lot when I worked at the Bayou and leave messages for me. Mike would know how to get hold of him and drop that he’d seen me in the bar last night."

Adam ran his hands through his short cropped hair and laced his fingers at the back of his neck as he thought. “All right. I’ll call him and ask him to contact Sammy.” He was silent for a long moment before he spoke again. “Max, we need to get you a suit.”

“I’m sorry?” Max asked.

Adam seemed to ignore him. “Andrew, take him shopping. Off the rack will have to do.”

Max glanced between both men. “Could someone please explain to me the sudden interest in what I’m wearing?”

"I’m going to make an appointment with the Toreador Primogen," Adam said. "And use Mr. Johnson as our lead. Therefore, it’s important that we look the part."

"Tell me you’re calling Jan on this first." Andrew said.

"I will. Go on. Let me see what I can set up."

Two hours later, Max was wearing the first suit he had worn possibly in his entire life. He felt uncomfortable and was sure it showed. Andrew was also wearing a suit although his height had necessitated paying extra for a few quick alterations.

Adam, however, looked more like the suits Max had seen Vault and his cronies in. It was expensive, tailored and understated. A pair of dark glasses and Adam could have passed for Michael Venatti's right hand.

"Madeleine is unavailable at the moment," Adam said. "Not surprising," he said as they stepped out into the sunshine from the hotel lobby. "Hope you have your American Express, Andrew. We are moving uptown." A limousine was waiting for them at the curb.

They climbed in and Adam pulled off the glasses, looking tired. "It would seem that Michael Venatti wants to know who killed Vault as well. We have, inadvertently, stepped into a hornet's nest. Jan will be here tomorrow."

"What?" Andrew said, alarm on his face. "He can't do that."

"He can and will," Adam said. "Not just for this but because of the blood binding. It didn't come from Evan, it came from the other Adepts. He and I figure forty-eight hours tops before he'll have to go back but he can find things we can't. He’s not here to find Val," he added softly with a glance at Max. "He will be here representing the Pillars and his task is to make sure Anis stays right where she is no matter what."

Max nodded and stared out the window. The tight shirt collar pinched even more as he understood Adam's implication. "What does that mean for us exactly?"

"It means if we are going to find him, we have to do it before Jan gets here. His words, not mine. He’s going to make sure he misses the first flight out tomorrow but that's about all he can buy us."

"And Venatti? Is he going to want me?"

"No. As far as he's concerned, Max, you don't exist. His suspicion is that Vault was done as an inside job to help create a power struggle that would throw the New Orleans arm of the family into a bit of turmoil.

Max sighed and stared out the window again. Despite all the apparent power of the Pillars that Andy and Adam talked about, Max felt helpless and frustrated. If what they’d shown him was only part of what they were capable of, then it would be absolutely no issue to locate Val for Jan or this Evan guy. All the talk of Order, Chaos and keeping balances and agreements was starting to wear at him and a small part of him began to long for the days when he had no one else to answer to and no one to care.

“Where are we going?” Andy’s question broke into Max’s thoughts and he forced himself to pay attention.

“I told Mike to pass along that Max had found new employment. They’ll leave him alone on that since Venatti already put the word out about our Third Musketeer here,” Adam explained. “But I figured we needed to look the part of…wealthy businessmen.”

They arrived at the newer hotel and got out of the car, turning the keys over to the valet and entering the lobby. Their footsteps became silent as they moved from ornate tile to plush carpeting. "Adam," Max said, "don't go up to the front desk."

"Why not? Do you know of another way to check in?" Adam asked curious, a half-smile on his face.

"Because guys like you - and you definitely look like a higher-up - don't bother with the little details. Stuff like that is left to me and Andy. Andy can go up and make the room arrangements. I’ll wait here with you.” He shrugged at Andy’s slightly sour look. “I don’t have a credit card, man.”

“Anything else I should know in my exalted position?” Adam asked.

“When we get into the elevator, you let one of us go in first. Then you enter and then we stand in front of you."

"I didn't know there were so many rules to this," Andy groused.

"It's in the information packet they give out at the initiation ritual," Max said. "Wouldn't want us new boys to mess up, y'know?"

Leaving Adam and Max, Andy went up to the desk to arrange for a room while Max tried not to fidget and pull his shirt collar into some kind of submission. They returned and entered the elevator as Max told them to and rode silently up to the room. Max unlocked the door and they entered into a suite with a view overlooking the more picturesque part of New Orleans. A glance into the bedroom revealed a wide, high bed with more pillows on it than could possibly be used. The living room suite was complete with a fully stocked wet bar and a large flat screen television. A conversation grouping made up of overstuffed chairs upholstered in rich fabrics and a low table completed the look.

As Adam picked up the phone and dialed, Max sat down on the bed as soon as the door was shut. "Another reason never to work back East? I hate this thing. I'm never wearing another one as long as I live." As he spoke, the coat was already off and the shirt sleeves were being rolled up.

"Until you get married," Andy remarked laconically.

Max stopped in the midst of his task and had his mouth open before he decided it would be better not to comment. Adam hung up the phone just then and turned to look at them. "Jan doesn't like it but he'll do it." He looked at Max. "You willing to go through with this?"

Max nodded. "Sure. Question, though. If he wants me to go somewhere, do I go? Or is that considered active?"

"No. If we can't get him to come to us, it's no deal. Use the cover story we gave Mike."

"And just who are you two going to be in this little masquerade?"

"We don't have time to come up with any kind of aliases." Adam said, pulling off his jacket and loosening the knot in his tie. "We stick to our own names and the rest we wing. I hate it but the story will be that we are looking to move domestic stables of prostitutes to an international market. That's the fastest way I can think to find Val and would at least give us a reason to be interested in looking at the male hustlers."

Max considered. "That should work." All of them took various places around the room and settled in to wait. An hour crawled by and then thirty more minutes slowly ticked away before the phone rang. Adam looked at Max, who nodded and slowly picked up the receiver. "Yeah?"

Andy and Adam watched the one side of the conversation they could keep track of, listening to Max tell whoever was on the other end that, yes, of course he was back in New Orleans. He'd only skipped town to get the Feds off his case for a while. Being a heat merchant wouldn't help out Benton now, would it? Apparently the person on the other end agreed.

"You want to meet?" Max looked at the men and waited until he received affirmation. "Great. C'mon by. No, man. I gotta be here for another phone call." Max was silent for several moments before he spoke and told Sammy the room number. “See you then.” He hung up the phone and sat down in one of the overstuffed chairs. "Sammy's on his way here." He wiped his face with his hand. "Now I just gotta figure out what to tell him."

"No, you don't," Adam said.

"He's gonna want me to go see Benton,” Max argued. “If I can't, that's gonna be hard to get around."

"We don't plan on being subtle with Sammy and he won't be returning to Benton until after Jan gets here," Adam said.

"Wait a minute," Max said. "You're going to keep Sammy on ice until Jan gets here? How?"

"The same way I put Val down only he won't come up as fast," Andrew said. "Plus we have that nice big closet and Adam's truly atrocious taste in ties," he said, trying to smile but it was obvious Andrew wasn't happy about any of this.

"Why?" Max asked, drawing the word out.

"Max, when Jan gets here, his first task is going to be to see the Prince. At that meeting, he will spill his guts about our theory and let her sort it out," Adam said. "No bargaining, no leverage. Dump the information and go which means it is up to Anis to settle it anyway she wants. If she decides to settle Madeleine, what do you think will happen to anyone that might even be construed as loyal to her? Or to Crispin?"

Max bent his head, lacing his fingers behind his neck. He thought he felt a touch on his shoulder but shrugged it off. "Lemme think," he bit out. "I gotta have this straight in my head by the time Sammy gets here." He needed to shut his worry about Val and anxiousness about Jan’s vampire politics somewhere in his head where it couldn’t get out while Sammy was here.   He breathed deeply and tried to order his thoughts. He'd only been gone eight weeks so there shouldn’t be any real problems. Plus, he was bringing in potential business. Sammy was always on the lookout for getting himself a cut of anything and might override anything he thought was hinky about the whole deal until Adam and Andy could do…whatever it was they were going to do.

A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts.  He looked up to see both men staring back at him. “Here we go,” he sighed as he stood up.  He opened the door to see the same old Sammy: short and talking out of the side of his mouth.

"Hey, paisan," Sammy greeted him.

Max had always hated that but, with Sammy, you played the way he wanted and he generally gave you what you wanted – or left you alone and Max was firmly on the side of being left alone as much as possible. "C'mon in." He stepped aside so Sammy could enter the room. Adam and Andy started to get up but Max motioned behind Sammy’s back for them to stay seated. "Sammy Esposito, this is Andrew McAran and Adam Johnston."

"And where are you gentlemen from?" Sammy asked.

"Atlanta," Max smoothly interjected. He didn't want Andy or Adam to say too much unless necessary. Sammy would form his most of his opinion based on Max's information. "Been workin' for 'em."

Sammy jerked his head around. "What about Benton?"

"Told you I wasn't going to be any good to Benton with the Feds on my ass, didn't I? Needed money and these guys offered me a job."  _Take it, Sammy_ , he mentally urged.

Sammy stared at Adam and Andy for a moment and then seemed to make up his mind, sitting down on the end of the bed. "What would Atlanta boys be doing here in New Orleans?" he asked.

Max looked at Adam, who nodded infinitesimally. "They’re not lookin’ to step on anybody’s territory. Mr. Johnston moves local talent. He's got a domestic stable that has the opportunity to go international and he's here looking for some more employees. You happen to know of any that might be interested in a career move?"

Sammy shifted uneasily. "We don't mess around much with that anymore. Benton likes to keep mostly to the drug trade. He's cut loose most of those other connections."

"Why?" Max listened as Sammy outlined the business deal Benton had made, giving the man more control over the drugs flowing in and out of Louisiana in exchange for the human traffic. His stomach kept tying itself into tighter and tighter knots. Sammy had meant potentially easy access to prostitutes. Without that “in”, it might be much harder to find Val and get him out.

"That's too bad, Sammy," Max frowned and tried to look disappointed. It wasn’t hard. "We were hoping to make a deal. Coulda been pretty lucrative for the brokers on both ends. Mr Johnston was prepared to pay a finder’s fee, too."

"How much?"

Max thought. "Fifteen grand. But if you don't have the connections anymore...." He made as if to stand up and the door.

"Wait a minute," Sammy said. "Is the finder's fee good if I can tell you who runs most of the whores now?" His gaze passed between Max and Adam, who finally nodded at Max as if giving permission. "Benton traded his contacts to a guy named Crispin Johnson. He's running a lot of the talent in and out of New Orleans. The stuff he keeps, he gives to a lady name of Madeleine Dupre and she's got some fine stuff, Max. Fresh meat as well as those with some experience. Boys and girls."

"Any good male talent?" Max asked. "We're especially interested in those."

Sammy nodded affirmatively. "Some. She has a sweet set-up," he said and then fell silent as if he realized he might just be saying too much. He crossed and then uncrossed his legs again, looking at Adam.

"Since we already have an appointment with Ms. Dupre, I can't see as you have given us anything worthwhile," Adam said and Max could have sworn that, if anything, Adam’s British accent had become even more pronounced. "Of course, if we could avoid having to broker the talent…" he murmured and then turned towards the wet bar. "A drink, sir?" he asked.

Sammy looked startled at the title but nodded.  "Scotch. Neat. "

Max made an abortive gesture behind Sammy’s back. Adam's hand twitched but he glanced at Andrew. "If you would, Andrew," he said and Andy moved quickly to fix the drink while Adam took juice in a glass. Max could see the slight tremor in his hands.

Andrew passed the glass to Sammy and gestured him to a seat, suggesting he’d be more comfortable than perched on the end of the bed. Sammy moved and settled in, leaning back and taking an appreciative sip of his drink. "Well,” he continued. “She keeps them close but they move them back and forth between her townhouse and a more private residence on the edge of the River. Getting to them directly would be...tricky."

"How often?" Andrew asked.

"Um...couple times a week. Johnson has a party there once a week for high-end clients. Sometimes the talent stays and sometimes they move it back. But I've seen them on the grounds."

"Most of our market is Asian," Adam said, “which means we offer primarily Caucasians. Any idea of the mix? How many men?"

Sammy looked over his glass at them. “You’re getting kind of particular,” he said. “Maybe I shouldn’t say anything else until I check you out with Benton.”

Max could have groaned aloud. This was _not_ the time for Sammy to suddenly become cautious. He opened his mouth to remind Sammy of the finder’s fee but Adam spoke first.

"Andy."

Max watched Sammy’s face as the man realized he was unable to move. The slight sneer to Sammy’s lips flattened out into a thin line and his eyes widened. Max could see veins standing out in the man’s forehead while a visible pulse beat frantically in his neck.

"We _are_ rather particular," Adam said. "We’re looking for a young man. He appears to be about twenty with pale skin and dark hair; Italian. He has a partner about the same age who is Jamaican and works for Madeline."

"Don't know anyone like that."

"Wrong answer," Adam said. "Try again. Have you seen him?"

"Don't know what you are talkin' about!" Sammy spat out with as much venom as he could muster but his voice still rose in panic.

"You’re lying.” Adam got up and went over the bar, pouring himself another glass of juice. “Let’s try a name. Maybe you’re better with particulars. Valentine Everett – goes by Val. Do you know him?"

"No!" Max watched Sammy’s face turn red with the effort to move some part of his body. Having experienced the same phenomenon, he almost felt sorry for the level of freakout Sammy was going through. Almost.

Adam stepped close and leaned over the chair to look Sammy directly in the face. “See, here’s the thing,” he said in a conversational tone that in no way hid the hint of steel beneath. "I know when you’re lying, Sammy. And I really don't have time to fuck with this. When was the last time you saw him?"

"I don't know nothin'!"

Adam drew back, grabbing at his glass and forcing himself to drink slowly. He looked at Max. "I can tell when he's lying. I can't make him tell the truth. Narrow it down for me. I need specifics." Max nodded and saw Adam’s eyes go unfocused with that unnerving gaze he remembered from Jan looking _through_ him rather than _at_ him. Considering what Jan had been able to pull from Max without him even being aware of it. Max wasn’t sure whether to feel more sorry for Sammy having all his secrets laid bare or Adam for having wade through them.

“Max?” Andy’s voice brought him back to the task at hand. According to what they had, the last time Val had been seen was two to three weeks ago. Maybe he should start a little farther back?

"He came back to New Orleans. I didn't," he said to Sammy. "Benton was moving in then.  Would have been setting up deals, meeting the people. Did he meet Crispin Johnson, then?"

Sammy nodded.

"What about Madeleine Dupre?"

"Nope. He's never met her."

"You really don't lie well at all, Sammy," Adam murmured and Sammy’s eyes jerked to stare at Adam.

"So he did meet her," Max said tiredly. "And they brokered a deal which gave Benton the drug trade in exchange for the skin trade, right?"

Sammy nodded again, his eyes flicking between Max and Adam while Andrew sidled in to stand behind their captive. "OK, they had you come there?" Max asked.

Sammy shook his head and Max saw Adam shake his head. “So you and Benton went there.”

“Benton took me 'cause you were gone, Max. He was _pissed_. Dupre and Johnson outlined the deal and Dupre asked if you wanted to make a move. Benton told her you'd disappeared and it didn't look like she was too happy."

_Why me?_  Max wanted to know but he forced himself to keep asking relevant questions. "So that woulda been five weeks ago. They have you come along on any merchandise moves through the city?"

"A couple," Sammy said sullenly, looking at Adam again. "The kid was there."

"When?" Max pounced. "When?” he growled when Sammy didn’t reply. “Stop fucking around, Esposito!”

“Andy, apply a little persuasion please,” Adam said tersely. Andy grimaced but Sammy suddenly made a sound that had Max wincing in sympathy.

"He will continue to apply pressure until your balls pop," Adam said coldly. "Or he can let you go in the next heartbeat. Speak up, Sammy!" he said sharply

"Okay! Fuck!" Sammy said. "Three weeks ago," Sammy said, suddenly spilling his guts, looking between Adam and Andrew as if not sure who was the bigger threat. He finally settled on Max as the least likely to do him more harm. "I don't know what exactly happened. Just...she wanted you, Max. Found out you’d been talking to the Feds and then they showed up on her doorstep. Your loyalty was in question since you hadn’t signed up with Benton and she wanted him to turn you over. But you were gone by then. That assistant of hers had made the reservations for your plane trip but he hadn’t known it was you. Well, he knew the name because he bought the ticket,” Sammy babbled. “But he didn’t know it was _you_ …then. After they found out you were gone, they took that Val kid off the market and over to Crispin. Haven’t seen him since.”

"What about Tevis?" Adam asked.

Sammy tried to shake his head and realized anew that was an impossibility. “Nope. Saw him a couple days ago and it’s like he’s gone too. Last time I saw her was at Dupre’s house.”

"And Val?" Max asked. “Think about it, Sammy. Hope you aren’t too attached to your balls,” he threatened. He caught something from Andy that might have been a cough or a laugh. Adam’s mouth quirked.

“Last time I saw him was when I had some stuff to deliver from Benton to Crispin. Johnson was sitting there like some king or something and the kid was there all…leashed up like a dog. He didn't look up once. Was finishing up our transaction and some guy stepped up and wanted the kid. Crispin said the kid was private stock; invitation only. Said since he'd made the kid, he could do whatever he wanted. That was it."

Andrew looked ill and Adam looked murderous enough to kill. "Andy," he said flatly and Sammy looked surprised for a moment before he went limp.

"Tie him up," Adam said and then moved away, toward the bathroom. Both Andy and Max could hear retching through the closed door.

"Max," Andrew said quietly, moving Sammy as he bound him. "Give me your tie and then order up some room service, if you would."

"Sure," Max said, eyeing Sammy uneasily. Going to the phone, he yanked at his tie until the knot loosened. Stripping it from his collar, he tossed it at Andy. "With my compliments," he said, rubbing at his neck. Andy made no further comment but simply grabbed the tie as Max phoned room service.

"My guess is we still meet with Madeleine and get to Crispin through her," Andrew said as he started rolling a bound Sammy towards the closet.

While waiting for the order, Max gingerly sidestepped Sammy and went over to the window. He propped an arm against it and leaned in, resting his head against his forearm. Crispin was Sparrow? He was the guy who'd made Val? Crispin might want to keep his boy toy around for enjoyment and the blood bind but Madeleine's main desire was power and it was becoming clear that desire had been thwarted by Vault's death along with Max's disappearance, said disappearance occurring with Val's help.  He heard Adam come out of the bathroom but didn't turn around.  A few seconds later, he could see Andy’s reflection as he returned from rolling the unconscious Sammy into the bedroom closet.

"Max, what did you tell the Feds?" he heard Adam ask wearily.

"I didn't know Vault was a vampire, then," Max said, as he gazed out unseeingly over the city below. He wasn’t sure if he was merely answering the question or offering an apology. "They kept mentioning Angola and that’s a word I really didn’t want to hear – managed to avoid big time in a penitentiary so far. Was trying to throw 'em off the track so I told them about Vault visiting Shawnda Rochelle. No real details, though. They must have gone to see her and she told them that Madeleine was there."

"And Madeleine would not want anyone looking too close for a variety of reasons. Yes, I could see where she might be a bit pissed at you," Adam said.

"Well, I can't take it back now," Max said. "It's not like I could see into the future or anything." There was a knock on the door. "I'll get it," he offered as much to escape the thoughts clamoring in his head as anything else and pushed away from the window.

He signed the tab and nearly shut the door in the server’s face. After placing the tray on the table, Max sat and propped his feet in the other chair. "Maddy wants information and she'd be willing to trade for that. Crispin wants Val. Would he give him up? Even for a chance to increase his operation?"

"Crispin has Val if that's what he wants and they also know that both of you know more about them than you should. We _might_ ,” Andy stressed, “be able to tempt him with power of some kind but we can't deliver it and I doubt seriously that he would give Val up until he had some guarantee." He sighed. “We won't be able to see Madeleine until tonight and we'd have to go to her. I don't think either of you wants to attend one of Crispin's parties and I don't think I do from the sound of it."

“What if we offered a trade?” The idea hit Max like a left hook. It would even up the balance and take care of his inadvertent siccing of the Feds on Madeleine.

"With what?" Adam looked wary, but intrigued.

"What I know - in the form of me - for Val."

Adam’s expression immediately went from wary to angry. “No,” he said shortly.

"Max, that is a really bad idea," Andrew agreed.

"Why not?" Max argued stridently. "You want to keep the treaty and Anis in power. I can give Maddy enough to keep her happy. Once she's happy, Crispin can probably go screw himself and the Brujah are still subordinate to the Toreador. If someone--" and he wasn't going to even mention who that someone might be "--just went in and tried to take Val, it starts the war you also don't want. This way you keep the balance between Order and Chaos."

"Max," Adam sat up and leaned forward, speaking quietly and insistently. "It sounds like Madeleine gave Val to Crispin to punish him. But she didn't kill him which she probably _would_ do to you if she is that angry – or turn you into a vampire or just keep you as a plaything for years on end. We’re _not_ going to let that happen to you.

I think you _are_ right in that we can't go in and take Val. We could, though, and Jan will probably want to kill me for this, we could warn her what is coming down the pike. If we are even close to right that might be enough leverage to get Val out if we’re lucky. If we’re not, it may just send her to ground somewhere else. Fuck…” he finished on a sigh.

“But…”

Max looked over at Andy. “But…” he repeated. “You got something?”

“If Crispin is Val’s sire, that means he was poaching. Atlanta would have been off limits.”

"And the Beginning Reader's version of that would be...?” Max asked blankly.

"Not following either," Adam said blearily.

"We don't necessarily have to leverage Madeleine or Crispin. Jan has to leverage Anis." Andy said. "Anis is Prince. It's part of her agreement to keep the Brujah in line but Crispin came poaching. Val was just an opportunity but Madeleine came looking for him specifically."

Adam blinked. “It’s a good thing you’re the smart one. No matter who actually did the siring, Anis is responsible. It's her word on the agreement."

"Not only is Val physical proof that the covenant between us was broken, Crispin can also use him as a weapon,” Andy pointed out. “If you don’t feed a vampire except enough to keep him hungry, that vampire will do just about anything.”

Max nodded. “He said once it was like ground glass in his stomach when he was hungry.”

"Use Val to take out Anis?" Adam said and shook his head. "Even at his worst he couldn't do that. She's older and more powerful."

"But she probably knows he works for Madeleine which could get him close. I mean, come on, someone from her own cousin's stable? And all sorts of things could happen if you have a berserk vampire on your hands..."

"Like Frat Boy," Max said unthinkingly. In response to Adam's raised eyebrow, he explained the street fight and its aftermath. "If we go see Anis, though, she's going to immediately turn to Madeleine to find out what's up. Whatever Maddy's got going, she'll unite with Anis on principle with them being the same Clan at least on the surface."

"Which would leave Crispin out in the cold and that is not exactly a bad thing. If we can divide and conquer, get them to play against each other, that might work,” Adam mused. “If we alert Anis but keep everyone in the dark as to who we’ve told what…

"I say we try the straight on approach first since Madeleine is already expecting us," Adam said. “Keep Anis in reserve until we see how Madeleine wants to play it.”

"And if you don't want to go in the front door, my Federal resume shows my variety of skills," Max muttered. He looked towards the bedroom where Sammy was hidden. "We should probably be far away from here pretty quick," Max suggested. "Untouchable or not, Benton isn't going to be really happy with me. Besides, I want to get out of this damn suit.

"And is there a prescribed method of leaving a hotel for us high-level Mafiosi?" Adam wanted to know, a small glint in his eye as his lips curved slightly.

"Yes, there is," Max informed him. "The same way we came in. Whenever the Don is ready," he said to Adam.

"The Don thanks you for your courtesy," Adam responded, shaking his head.


	17. Smile from a Veil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> See chapter for warnings

**WARNING:  Rape/non-con**

 

 _And did you exchange_  
_A walk on part in the war_  
_For a lead role in a cage?_  
  
_Wish You Were Here - Pink Floyd_

 

 

 

 

 

By the time they checked out and lost their cover identity, it was early evening and the sun was working on turning itself into an orange ball as it sank slowly into the horizon. Using Max's instructions, Andrew drove into the Garden District; the car slowly passed ornate and elegant homes. "There," Max said finally. Andrew pulled the car slightly past the house Max indicated and parked.

All three men got out and looked at the red brick home with its black wrought iron railings encompassing the second floor balcony and the ivy crawling up the trellises. "Very nice," Andrew muttered. "Ever been inside, Max?"

"Just the foyer," Max told him. " 'bout as far as I ever cared to go."

"Well, let's see if Miz Madeleine is about."

They knocked and but it took a moment before the door was opened by a large man with all the personality of frozen meat and, Adam unhappily noted, about the same body temperature.

"Adam Johnston. We have an appointment with Ms. Dupre," Adam said, not missing the glance the Neanderthal cast at Max or the double take he gave Andrew. A glance at the blond showed a huge shit-eating grin on Andrew's face. "Behave," Adam snapped out and Andrew was all innocence.

It was not Madeleine but Tevis who came at the doorman's call. His face was impassive except when he looked at Max and something burned in the amber eyes before it was smothered by politeness and courtesy as he led them into her private study.

"She'll be with you in a moment," Tevis said softly. "Can I get you anything?"

Andrew took the direct route. “We’re friends of Val’s, Tevis.”

Emotion raced across Tevis’ features, unreadable and indefinable, before he regained control of his previously blank expression and looked straight at Max. "So he thought," he said quietly and the look that appeared on the heels of those words was hatred as pure and unchecked as anything Max had ever seen. Even Charlie had not looked at him with such a gaze.

"Have you seen him?" Adam asked.

"No. Nor do I know where he is or if he's alive." Tevis said and Adam shook his head. Tevis was telling the truth. He knew nothing. What he felt was a different matter.

The door opened and all three men looked at the woman who entered. She brushed long dark hair away from a pale face skillfully enhanced by cosmetics to draw attention to large dark eyes and full lips. Her gaze lingered on Andrew, dismissed Adam and locked on Max. "You...you have caused me a great deal of trouble, cher," she said coolly.

Max found himself shifting his feet as if trying to find a more secure stance. He made himself stop and looked directly at Madeleine. "That was not my intention," he said carefully, feeling a small trickle of sweat run down between his shoulder blades at the same time. "At the time, there were not many options open to me. I...regret any inconvenience it might have caused you."

She might as well have been stone as she gazed at them. “Since I know you are decidedly _not_ referred by Mr. Johnson, I think you should leave. False pretenses bring no favors, gentlemen.” She turned on her heel.

"Crispin Johnson broke the covenant with the Pillars, Ms. Dupre. Or do you prefer to be called Primogen?" Adam asked harshly.

She stopped and favored him with a half-glance over her shoulder. "What the Brujah Primogen does is not my concern."

"Normally, no, unless you put him up to it."

She turned around slowly, arms crossed over her chest, and the soft rustle of her silk dress the only sound in the room until she spoke. "Why would I do a thing like that?" Madeleine asked softly.

"To force your Prince into a position of weakness,” Adam said baldly. “We have only one interest here, Primogen. We want Valentine Everett back unharmed. He is under the protection of the Pillars."

Max saw Tevis shift slightly at Adam’s words.

"Val no longer works for me,” Madeleine said. “And I have no idea where he is or what has become of him."

"Regardless, we are certain you can regain his...presence," Adam said. His tone matched Madeleine’s in polite contempt. "This incident has been brought to the attention of the Pillars and they are not pleased. Evan Richards’ protégé is on his way down here to reset the expectations of the agreement with Anis."

A tilt of her head was all the indication they had that she had not expected this information. "You have still failed to convince me that this has anything to do with me,” she retorted as one long, red fingernail began to tap a slow rhythm against her arm.

"You recruited Val from Atlanta. The only way you could know there was a vampire in Atlanta at all was if you had something to do with his being made." Adam said as he shoved his hands in his pockets. "So Evan thinks," he added.

A toss of her hair and a tight smile was the response he received. "Routine recruitment. He had a certain talent and I had a certain need.” She let out a laugh that might have been charming in the right circumstances but had a brittle undertone now. “You can't honestly believe that Anis will believe you over me?"

"Maybe not. But you must believe it or you wouldn't be talking to us," Andrew said. "What Jan Therin says to Anis tomorrow will very much be tempered by what happens here and now. If you think we give a shit about who holds the throne in New Orleans, think again. You keep to your business, order your own kind, and we will keep to ours. Otherwise…” he shrugged.

"All of this for a whore?” She laughed again and this time the tone was uglier, more triumphant. “I think not," she hissed and turned on Adam. "Val _is_ my kind and ours to deal with or discipline as we see fit no matter who recruited him or from where."

"No. Not for a whore," Adam said and didn’t flinch as she moved closer to him. "But I wonder what Anis would say if she knew her reign was about to come to an abrupt and messy end. You've eliminated the competition. Vault couldn't challenge her. The Pillars won't allow a Brujah to rule but Anis cares little for what happens outside her own walls. She is weak and has never managed to see the potentials this city has to offer," Adam's voice was low, seductive and Max found himself believing, even agreeing with his assessment.

Madeleine stared at him for a moment and then she turned that hard, cold gaze on Max. "Yes, until _he_ brought down a level of scrutiny we cannot afford. Give him to us to finish our containment of the problem and I can possibly provide assurances that the power structure will remain unchanged. If not..” she shrugged and the delicate gesture was at odds with the harsh tone she used. “Make your threats. Talk to Anis. See which side she comes down on. Tevis!” she snapped and left them, Tevis trailing in her wake.

Andy sighed and Max looked over at him. “Coulda gone better?” he asked.

“Coulda gone better,” Andy agreed.

A movement caught their eye and they turned to see Adam grabbing heavily onto the edge of a table. “Fuck!” Andy cried and grabbed Adam before he went down.

“What the hell?” Max asked as they levered the man upright between them.

“Pushing too damn hard again.  Jackass,” Andy muttered to his friend. “Trying to persuade her to say something,” he explained shortly to Max.

"What do you mean?" Max asked.

"He doesn't use his other gifts enough to be able to switch them on and off like that, not when he's been at it all day. I’ll help him out – try to take my time. See if you can maybe get a word with Tevis without everyone around. I'll be watching," Andrew promised.

Max slipped out into the hall and saw only the goons at the door and Tevis ascending the stairs."Tevis!" he called sharply, putting one hand on the rung and stepping up. "I need…” _Crap._ “Can you call a cab, please?” he asked. “Adam’s not feeling well.” At the three dubious looks he received in reply, Max held up his hands in front of him, palms out. “Seriously. Just a cab. That’s all I’m asking for.”

Tevis stared at him for a long moment before he answered. "The sooner you are gone, the happier Madeleine will be," he said flatly and came back down the stairs, motioning abruptly for Max to follow him. They entered what Max remembered Val once describing as the room where his tricks waited before they were led upstairs. Tevis crossed over to a small antique table and put his hand on the phone resting on top of it. His head bowed, he stood there a moment and then quietly asked. "Are you...do you know where he is?"

Max waited a moment before answering, looking to see if anyone else was entering the room behind them. "We have an idea it involves the Brujah Primogen," he said finally.

Tevis continued to stare at the phone for a long moment, then seemed to come to a decision. "I can get you to Crispin's. If you find him…” He turned to look at Max, his eyes shining with unshed tears. “Will you take him back home? Tell me you will and I will help.”

"If that's what you want," Max agreed carefully. The request struck him as odd. “But don't you love Val?"

"More than my life," Tevis said softly and his gaze hardened. "But he...Maddy has no more care for him. She would have killed him save she wanted to use him as an example to the others. She thinks him to disloyal to her but, in truth, he is just more loyal to you.” The look on his face changed, altered slightly into something less vulnerable and more calculating. “You know she will be angry if you try and help him. Are you willing to risk that?"

"Of course I am," Max whispered harshly. "He's my best friend. He knows I'd do anything for him but that's different than what's between you and him. I can't imagine him wanting to be separated from you."

"He cannot stay. I cannot go.” Tevis tried to shrug but it came off more desperate than nonchalant. “If you will not promise to take him away he may as well stay where he is. Crispin will tire of him soon and if he comes back here, Madeleine will only torment him further.” He lifted his hand from the phone. “I believe this has been enough time to call your cab.”Tevis said and moved back towards the hall.

"No, wait!" Max followed him, grabbing Tevis by the arm and yanking him around to face Max. "I'll do what I can. I promise. Is that good enough?" After what seemed forever, Tevis nodded and Max sighed in relief. “Okay, then.”

Coming out of the side room, they ran into Andy walking Adam slowly towards the front door. “Cab’s been called,” Max said in response to Andy’s raised eyebrow. Tevis nodded and walked away. “We should go wait outside.”

Once outside and around the corner from Madeleine’s, Andy propped Adam up against a low-level brick wall. “What was all that about?” he asked Max.

"I talked to Tevis,” Max said.

You're lucky he didn't gut you instead," Andrew said. “Looked like that might have been an option for him.”

Max shrugged. “I’m a likeable guy.” A snort that may have been derision or laughter came from Adam. “Anyway, seems we were right about the river house. Crispin does have Val down there. Tevis says he can get me in."

Adam had pulled himself upright but he still looked pale and was squinting like he had a migraine. However, his voice was forceful. "No way, Max. Bad, very bad idea."

"But--"

"Tevis is blood bound to Madeleine in case you've forgotten."

"I _know_ ," Max shot back. "But he loves Val. He wants him out from under Madeleine." He took a breath and played his last card. "He asked me to take Val back to his family."

"He said he would help you if you promised to take Val to Atlanta? Does he want to come as well? That doesn't ring quite true." Andrew pointed out as they started walking back to the car.

"I don't know," Max admitted. "Maybe he loves him enough to give him up?"

Adam leaned against the car while Andrew went around to the driver's side to unlock the doors. "Interesting way to put it, Max. What about you? Can you say the same?"

He sucked in his breath. "What do you mean?" Max felt like he was groping in the dark for answers again, that they were setting him up somehow and putting the responsibility on him.

"Say Tevis is telling the truth and you go and free Val," Adam explained. "That's going to piss off Madeleine and Crispin and then we're right back to the war scenario where more people than you know of are going to die because of your actions; because you tipped the scales."

"Then Maddy gets me gift wrapped," Max said through clenched teeth. "Look, I _get_ that she wants to do nothing other than tear me limb from limb and force-feed me my own guts but…I gotta take the chance for Val.   I tip the scales, I’ll do what I need to so it hopefully tips back without some fuckin’ apocalyptic showdown, okay? But…” He trailed off, not sure how to put into words exactly why he felt so strongly about this. Wasn’t this what friends did for each other?

Andrew sighed. “Let’s go back to the hotel. We can call Jan, see if he’s got anything new, and then think about this meet with Tevis.”

It was an excruciating two hours while they waited for Jan to call them back. They checked on Sammy and found him alert and scared out of his mind. Andrew let him go, knowing he would go immediately to Benton but the Mafia boss was the least of their worries. When Jan did call back, the phone call did not go well. Adam took the brunt of not only Jan's anger but Evan's as well. The upshot of it was that they were emphatically told to do nothing -- not meet Tevis, not make a move. Jan and Evan would be in New Orleans within several hours.

Adam hung up the phone slowly, staring at it as he relayed the dictates, then turned to face them both. "Meet with Tevis," he said to Max's surprise. "Get to the house if you can but don't go in. I know if something happens, if you think there's an immediate problem, you will go in but I’m asking you to be _very_ careful. I find it hard to believe that Madeleine won't tell Crispin what's happened or that she won't try to patch her weakened fences with Anis. She has the most to lose so I don't think she will try anything too overt. She will want to keep as many bargaining chips available as possible and Val has become one of them. Andrew, you go with him, but, Max, remember Andy can't hold off that many vampires if it goes sour. The most he could do is cover your asses and get you out."

"Got it," Max said, trying to keep the exultation out of his voice when he saw Andy stare at Adam with a look he couldn't define.

"What are you going to do?" Andrew asked.

"Convince Evan that he has to see Anis _now_ and not when it suits him. This is her mess to clean up – and his," Adam said, sinking down on the bed.

"That's it?" Andrew asked flatly. His tone said he didn't believe Adam for a moment.

"That's it," Adam said in the same tone.

"Evan is going to chew you up and spit you out."

"He's tried before."

"Adam," Andrew 's voice became softer, more anxious. "This is not your fault. We walked into this with little information and less help."

"Preaching to the choir, Andy,” Adam sat back and motioned to the door. “You two need to get going or you'll miss your date with Tevis." Whatever Adam was thinking or feeling was locked down behind the calm gray eyes.

Andrew stared at him for a moment longer before rising to his feet.  "Come on, Max. Let's go see what kind of trouble we can get ourselves into," he said and left the room without looking back.

Max had to hurry to keep up with Andrew, who seemed to want to ignore Max all the way down the elevator and to the parking garage. Once in the car, Max spoke. "What's going on? Why is Adam going to take heat from this Evan guy?"

"Because Adam is the most viable target. Because Evan never loses an opportunity to gain bargaining power. And because he is an _idiot_ ," Andrew said darkly.

"Would it go easier for him if I broke the mark? You guys could just tell 'em I'm an asshole and went off on my own." It hurt to offer. Max didn't want to have Jan think he had just taken what the man had offered and then discarded it when it no longer suited him or was convenient. Little as he'd seen the man or talked to him, Jan's good opinion mattered to Max. He'd also rather enjoyed the several weeks of "normalcy" he'd gotten to experience. But he didn't want Andy or Adam getting into trouble nor did he want anything blocking their attempt to rescue Val.

"No.” Andy rubbed his eyes and summoned up a small, reassuring smile as he started the car. “This isn't about you, Max. It isn't even really about the reason we’re here. It’s an old battle. More accurately, it’s a new skirmish in an old battle and it isn't yours to fight.” He backed out of the parking slot and put the car into gear. “Unfortunately, as Adam just so eloquently pointed out to me, it’s not mine either."

“Well, it’s not like it’s my first choice,” Max replied. “But you've definitely got seniority over me, y'know?"

That got a chuckle and a slight lightening of Andrew's mood. "Only by virtue of the fact that I was born ten years earlier than you. Seniority doesn't count for much in what we do. We’re far too few and our contributions are all rather unique - including yours. Adam and I can hold our own at the big kids table."

"All right," Max agreed. "But if it gets ugly, I'm gonna go find Sammy and play a game of pool or something while we talk about the best ways to move large quantities of coke in from Miami." The dark look Andy threw him put Max immediately in mind of how the other man had immobilized Sammy. "Kidding, Andy. Seriously. Joke."

The ride took them away from the city proper and down into the outskirts where things were described by words like "quiet" and "sedate". From there they passed into a slightly seedier district where things began to look dilapidated and timeworn, progressing right on down the line to slum.

A long lane appeared just beyond the edges of the worst of the neighborhood, subtly lit at the entrance. Old gates, once proud proclaimers of a plantation manor were now shattered and broken. There were some faint lights off in the distance, filtered by the heavy boughs of acacia and cottonwoods, but nothing reached far enough to provide any real illumination much beyond the light of the moon.

"Stop here," Max told Andy, "and let me out." Andy coasted to a stop and Max got out of the car. "Go on and find a place. I'll be fine."

"Sure you will," said a voice.

Max whirled around to see Tevis. "Tryin' to give me a heart attack?" he asked the Jamaican.

"Lose your taste for the shadows?" was the rejoinder. "Come. We have to go quickly."

Max looked back at the car. "I'll see you later, Andy."

"Sooner than later," Andrew told him as he stepped out and pocketed the keys. "In case you have forgotten something, Mr. Griffin, Val is a friend of mine as well. And if Adam or Jan needs to find us, I can promise you they will find me faster than you."

"Andy," Max protested. "Two can move faster than three."

"Three or none," Andrew said firmly. "Remember, the point here is to keep an eye on things...mostly. Unless you intend to just walk in and ask for the special of the day?" he said to Tevis.

The young Jamaican fidgeted slightly and glanced up the lane.

Andrew followed his gaze. "They’re expecting us, aren't they?" he asked and Tevis looked down at his feet.

Max looked at Val's lover. "Nice," he congratulated him sarcastically. "Very nice. I hope your blood bond is worth it." Chewing his lip, he stared out into the night. _Son of a motherfucking bitch._ It wasn’t like he hadn’t half-expected Tevis to switch sides. He remembered his conversation with Val in Jan’s bedroom. But it angered him in a way Max couldn’t really identify beyond the anger he felt at Tevis – and also at Val for being willing to live with the uncertainty of loving someone who would betray him at a moment’s notice.

Andrew hunched his shoulders up into his jacket. "We know you will do what Madeleine tells you to, Tevis," Andrew said as he stared at the ruined landscape before them. "But if you are leading us to a slaughter, you have to know Val will be caught up in it as well."

Tevis maintained his silence and turned toward the house.

Resolutely, Andrew and Max followed him.

No one challenged them which confirmed Andrew's suspicions as Tevis led them not to the main house but to one of the out buildings instead. There were four of them, cinderblock boxes that could be used for storage of cotton or goods or drugs and guns, Max thought seeing the heavy bolts and padlocks on the steel doors. The dim light showed shapes that might be wires and ventilation turrets but no reflection of light off any windows. They reminded him of the mausoleums found in cemeteries all over New Orleans.

"Crispin uses these to punish those who defy him," Tevis said softly as they approached the one closest to them. "I don't know which one..." He sounded lost and confused as he pressed his hands against the door. “You’d think I would know."

Andrew leaned against the door to listen and then walked the short distance between the other three buildings to repeat the action. He could hear sounds but nothing identifiable. The second revealed the same noises but silence was all he heard in the third and fourth.

"Door number one, or..." He stepped back. "Shit. Talk about the lady and the tiger. God knows what we'll find."

"So what now?" Max asked, bouncing up and down on his toes as he kept checking around them, halfway expecting to see vampires start appearing out of the dark.

"We need Adam," Andrew said, "which is probably what they wanted anyway.” He turned around once in a circle, surveying their position. “Why, Tevis? Other than you were told to bring us here?"

"Madeleine hopes, I think, to avert Anis' anger or to lessen the impact of your presence here without losing her alliance with the Brujah Primogen. All she told me was that if I did this, I would be with Val and she would release me from the blood bond."

"You actually believe she's going to do that?" Max snapped as he darted another quick look at the dark night around them. "Sure enough that you're ready to risk your life, our lives and Val's life on it?" Tevis didn't answer and Max sighed, looking away.

Andrew stared at the buildings around them. "We can go back and get Adam, but that won't leave us with much night left. I can pop the doors but in case Crispin likes to keep hungry vampires like other people keep guard dogs, I would like to be able to close the door again. Anyone got lock picking on their resume?"

Max raised his hand and couldn’t stop a small, embarrassed half-smile at Andy’s and Tevis’ surprised looks. "I’m not great at it or anything,” he said. “But I, um, have some practice,” he said. "But I didn't exactly bring anything with me." Max started walking around in a small circle, looking to see if there was anything amidst the debris on the ground he could use.

"What do you need?" Tevis asked, looking as well. "A nail? Wire?"

"This isn't exactly a spy film," he told Tevis. "It's not like I can chew a piece of gum, add it to a paper clip and there you go." Max stuck his hands in his pockets as he tried to think. He was always carrying a variety of things around at MATADA and had just gotten into the habit of emptying his pockets each night and then putting the items back in his pockets in the morning when he put on a pair of jeans. Max was in the midst of wishing he was at MATADA right then when his fingers touched something small and cylindrical. He pulled it out and held it up. "Got it. A tweaker."

"A what?" Andrew asked.

"Tweaker," he repeated. "Never mind,” he added when they continued to look blankly at him. The small blade edging out from the cylinder might not be long enough but it was the best thing they had at the moment. Crouching in front of the door, Max touched the thick, sturdy lock with his fingertips. "Don't suppose either of you have a flashlight?"

"Breaking and entering was not in the game plan," Andrew said. "Not the kind that won't get noticed anyway."

"Great,” Max muttered. “Now I'm the Helen Keller of B&E."

"Just hurry," Tevis ordered.

Biting back the comment he would have dearly loved to make, Max ran his fingers along the padlock, looking for the slightly indented area where the keyhole would be. Finding it, he held his index finger there while he placed the tweaker against it, then moved his hand out of the way, bracing the lock with it in order to make as little noise as possible. He was starting to sweat slightly and his eyes strained as he tried to see in the dark. The instrument caught and slipped on the locking mechanism half a dozen times, causing everyone to swear under their breath and there was one moment where Max dropped the tweaker from his sweaty hand and he thought Tevis and Andy were both going to kill him.

“Andy,” Max whispered as he strained his minimal skills to their limit. “Don’t you have some kind of magical voodoo that can make a light or anything?” When he didn’t get an immediate response, he chanced a look up to see Andy studying him. “You do?” Somehow he was not surprised.

“It would be too big and too bright,” Andy said. “It’d blind you more than anything else and it will call attention to us. I’d like to save that until we absolutely need it.”

“You’re the boss,” Max said and tried to concentrate on the lock while shoving what Andy had just told him to the back of his mind. He’d consider that little nugget of information later.

When Tevis once again huffed impatiently, Max looked up from his work and snapped, “Hey! I told you I’d done this before. _Not_ that I was some kind of master at it.” He held Tevis’ gaze until the other man turned sharply away to stare out into the night.

Max felt Andy’s hand briefly squeeze his shoulder and breathed slowly in and out several times. Time was wasting and he needed to figure this out. Mentally saying a prayer to whatever saint might hold sway over illegal entry, Max jammed the blade up as far as it could go and turned. It caught for a moment and hung there. "C'mon, work, dammit!" he cursed, twisting again. There was a small clicking sound and the padlock gave way enough for him to pull the two sections apart and toss them to the ground, the instrument of the padlock's destruction stuck inside. He pulled back the tongue of the door latch. "Whenever anybody's ready," he said quietly.

Andrew's hand closed over his on the latch like a vise. "Max, we have got to work on your thinking before you act," he said seriously and pushed the younger man back gently, taking up a position beside the door where it would open and then nodded to Max as he raised his right hand with the palm out. Light flooded the ground and the muffled noise became a scream of rage, then the sound of a body hitting the concrete. "Fuck! Tell me that isn't Val," Andy said softly and unsteadily pushed the door open wider.

Some thing lay on the floor, pinned there by Andrew's gift and unlikely to get any closer. It was chained hand and foot and throat but there was enough laxity in the chains to allow it to get to the door. It was only human looking in that it had two legs. But the torso was scarred and ripped, the flesh grayish and the face misshapen.

"No, it's not!" The voice came out of nowhere at the same time that Max felt someone grab his arms and jerk him back. Andrew was shoved forward into the chamber and Max heard him cry out even as the steel door clanged shut, separating them.

Max tried to pull himself away but someone had his arms held tight behind him and another arm snaked around his throat, nearly cutting off his oxygen. "Andy!" he yelled before the arm around his throat increased pressure, causing him to choke. After a couple more tries that only produced several more painful cutoffs of oxygen, he subsided, eyes darting around to try and find the source of their capture.

Crispin's face loomed in front of Max's. "I am sure you remember me, Mr. Griffin. Come. I will certainly take you to Val since you have come all this way." He smiled and glanced at his companions. As Max was jerked around and forced to walk towards one of the other buildings, he could see Tevis was being held by Crispin’s goons as well. As they drew up to the structure, several vampires appeared out of the night and sauntered over to the goons holding Tevis. Max could see the other man tremble as one of the vampires pulled his head back and stroked the visibly pulsating vein in the Jamaican’s neck. Without asking, the vampire bit and Tevis gave a sharp cry.

"Don't kill him," Crispin snapped at the vampire. "Pity you didn't bring your other friend,” he said, turning his attention to Max. “But I think we can find him easily enough and I may make sure your large blond co-conspirator understands the positive aspects of our life. I think he would make a fine vampire with his particular gifts.” Crispin turned away and the others followed, dragging Max and Tevis with them.

They were pulled over the uneven ground, stumbling and nearly falling on their knees several times as their captors carried them along simply using their greater strength. Max could hear Tevis breathing harshly, fearfully, next to him and wondered vaguely if he sounded the same.

They stopped and Crispin produced the key to the padlock, opening it and pulling the bolt back. "I would hate for you to think me an indifferent host," he said and then caught Tevis' chin. "Madeleine said to consider the bond broken, cher." He kissed the young Jamaican. "You'll forgive me but I was afraid chains would bruise Valentine's lovely skin," he said and both Tevis and Max were pushed inside, the door clanging shut behind them.

As if by accord, both of them turned around but the door slammed shut as they threw themselves against it.  _Well, Andy_ , Max thought as he stood there.  _So much for thinking before we act. Now what?_

The room was dark and smelled of mildew and the cinderblocks were rough against his hands. "So, Tevis, any bright ideas?" he asked idly.

Tevis only glared at him.

"Sorry, man. I don't mean anything," Max apologized. As he looked around he became aware of a very dim light – one bulb to be exact. Not enough to see well by any means but enough to where he could make out shapes, including a huddled mass in the corner. He took a step and his shoe scratched against the rough concrete floor.

Val raised his head at the noise, dark eyes glittering in the light from the single bare bulb. He was naked and thin, ribs showing under the skin; what looked like claw marks snaked across his belly. His hair was matted and filthy. He hissed and crouched, sniffing like an animal, a low sound rumbled from his throat.

There was no time to react or even counter him. He was starving to death and dinner had been delivered. Max was closest and Val moved with that speed that always shocked Max, but his movements were jerky as he grabbed at Max, fingernails digging into Max's arms.

"Fuck!" Max couldn't control the yell of pain that tore out of him at the feeling of knives raggedly slicing into his flesh. It felt like Val's nails were going all the way down to the bone and pulling the skin and muscle off, leaving nothing behind except scraps of flesh clinging to bone. The vampire's lunge had caught him off guard and he fell to the ground, arms pinioned by Val as he tried to keep his neck away from Val's ferally grinning mouth. He kicked at the vampire's body but Val didn't seem to be registering anything beyond his own violent need for food. "Tevis!" he yelled.

Tevis caught Val's hair and yanked him back. The maddened vampire snarled at him and captured a wrist before jerking Tevis to him, target reapportioned as his mouth fixed on Tevis' throat. Tevis cried out in pain and fright but his hands came up to clutch at Val, to pull the vampire's head closer, stroking him with shaking hands, and trying to speak to him. Val snarled again and shook him like a dog worrying a rag, causing more pain.

Dazed, Max rolled over to prop himself on his right elbow and then try to pull himself upright. He fell hard as the pain from Val’s attack shot up his forearms and into his shoulders. The muscles in his arms felt like they'd been ripped in half and he could see shreds of skin hanging, blood running down and pooling on the tops of his hands as he tried again, gritting his teeth and shoving himself upright. "Val!" he called. "Val, that's Tevis. He's..."

There was no response from the vampire, nothing discernible that would tell Max that his friend was anything close to human right now. Instead, he knew what he was seeing was the Hunger Val and Adam had told him about; Val's only interest was blood and it didn't matter who it came from. Max watched in horrified fascination as Val continued to suck greedily at the vein in Tevis' neck and small, animalistic sounds emanated from him, warring with Tevis' occasional gasp of protest at the pain as his hands feebly tried to soothe the vampire and calm him into returning to some semblance of the Jamaican's lover. The vampire barely slowed as the first hunger pangs were assuaged.

As Max continued to stare, Tevis' movements became weaker and soon it looked as if he was barely moving. It didn’t look like Val's lover had much time left before the vampire completely drained him so Max shakily got to his feet and then moved to stand behind Val, grateful for the vampire's intense concentration on only what was before him. Max knew the very least he could expect was probably to be thrown across the room and it was more likely he was going to get his throat ripped out in the next thirty seconds. Still, if Val got out of here, there was no way his friend was ever going to forgive himself for killing his lover. Not after Marcus.

 _No more thinking. Just act_. Max made a fist as best he could, ignoring the searing pain shooting up his arm, pulled back and punched Val in the kidney, hoping the pain would make him break the feeding as it had before. He hit with enough force to stagger Val, to jerk his head back as he cried out in surprise and pulled his mouth from Tevis' throat.

Val dropped Tevis like an unwanted toy and spun around. His lips and fangs were still stained with the other man's blood. Max backed up, cradling his hand and started talking - fast. "Val, it's Max. You remember me, right? I'm the guy who jumps roofs because I can. We came here to find you, dude. Me, Andy and Adam."

Crouched like a panther ready to spring, Val moved forward in a weird, sinuous ripple of movement that further emphasized to Max the non-humanity of his friend.

"You remember Andy, right? He's here, too. And Adam's in New Orleans. We came because we wanted to find you - Jan lost the tag. I was gonna go on my own but they let me come. It's certainly been an interesting couple days." Max had no idea what he was saying but hoped that maybe his voice or something might register with the face in front of him. So far, however, there had been no sign and his anxiety was building, leading to words tumbling out faster and faster in the hopes of trying to forestall what Max was sure was going to be something very messy and very painful.

"Your folks are good."  _Really, Griffin?_ "I've been workin' for your dad part time and been saving up some money so you kinda have to remember me so I can pay you back.” His mouth was dry and his lips stuck together as he spoke, giving his words odd stresses and intonations. Besides, I've been putting aside a little bit so I can buy Tree a ring.” Max realized he had been backing away from Val as he spoke and he was rapidly running out of room. The fetid stink of the cell and Val’s unwashed body flooded his senses. “Anytime you wanna give me a sign here, Everett, that would be helpful. In fact, I'd love one about now,” he whispered harshly as he felt the locked steel door collide with his back. The chill that ran through him had little to do with the cold metal against his skin.

The only sign he got was a narrowing of the dark eyes before Val was on him, fending off Max's blows with ease. His attempts to resist increased the violence of Val’s attack and Val caught Max’s arms and slammed him back against the door. The back of Max’s skull cracked against the hard metal and stunned him. He fought to clear his vision but, before he could recover, Val's mouth was fixed on his throat, the pain ten times worse than when Val had fed from his wrist. Unable to stop himself, Max screamed and tried to fight back. Val dragged him down to the floor and used his strength to pin Max. When Max kept trying to fight, to twist underneath the vampire and throw Val off him, he was rewarded with a fist to the face and felt the bone in his nose give way just before pain robbed him of his ability to think, to act, even to breathe for several long moments.

His ability to breathe came back with a gasp that turned into another scream as Val bit into his neck with none of the finesse he’d used the previous times he’d fed from Max. Twin needles drilled into skin, muscle and bone. Once Val hit a vein, he sucked strongly, moist wet sounds as he drank, seemingly oblivious to Max's cries or his voice although Max could not form coherent words for the pain.

There was silence and then another wash of pain as Val stopped feeding. Max could hear himself breathing harshly. With nowhere to go, the adrenaline Val’s attack had created was making his body shake. He tried to make himself stop, tried to ignore the crashing ache in his skull, the fiery pain radiating across his face and up his arms, and make himself _think._ But all his thoughts seemed to slip through his fingers like sand. Nothing made any sense.

The next sound he heard was like a whimper turning into a purr. Val pressed himself against Max and leaned in again. Max clamped his lips shut but a strangled cry still escaped when Val burrowed into the open wound on his neck and shoulder to find more of the blood he craved. As he did, Max felt something else starting to take the place of the almost unendurable pain. A frisson of pleasure whispered down his spine and Max was nearly pulled into it, his body almost automatically relaxing and reaching for the sensation while his mind clamored at him that he was in danger.

 _No_ was his first coherent thought. _No, no, no._ For a moment, there was the cloying scent of aftershave as an older, darker memory sought to break through to the surface. Max shoved it away and tried harder to free himself, twisting and bucking against Val’s body. The only thing that changed, though, were the sounds Val made. Growls became gasps and sighs of relief as Val pressed more firmly against Max, rubbing his body against him.

“Val,” Max choked out, voice rough and hoarse from his screams. “Don’t. Let me go,” he pleaded. He breathed harshly through his mouth, broken nose already full of blood and its iron taste sharp in his mouth. He tried with all his might to force Val up and off him and was rewarded with a sharp slap to the face that left rivulets of blood seeping down his face where Val’s nails tore the skin open. It was followed by a punch to Max’s chest that left him gasping for breath and limp with pain.

Val’s hands moved, pulling at his shirt, and Max became aware of Val's erection pressing against his groin, the narrow hips sliding and flexing against him. The hands moved to his jeans, the insistent rubbing becoming slightly frantic, tearing at the denim. For a brief moment, Val stopped and looked at Max with what seemed like something other than Hunger in the dark eyes.

"Val," Max said softly, trying to sound calm and friendly even though he was still shaking from adrenaline and nauseous with pain. “It’s me. It’s…” Max stopped and then made himself finish. “It’s gonna be okay.” He stopped as Val brought a finger up to trace the route a drop of blood had taken when the flesh on Max’s shoulder was torn.

Max started to speak again and then paused in horror as the slight recognition he’d seen in Val’s eyes began to fade. As Val’s gaze turned feral once again, the fragile dam Max had built against the panic and adrenaline flooding his system broke and he started fighting in earnest. “No!” He pushed up and caught Val off balance. For one crazy moment, Max thought he might actually break free and then Val’s hands grabbed him and flipped him over. One hand tangled in Max’s hair, pushing his cheek into the concrete floor while he straddled Max’s thighs. Pain exploded in red streaks across his vision. Sharp teeth latched onto the side of Max’s throat and he could only squeeze his eyes shut and try to keep breathing as Val drank.

When Val was done, he raised up, keeping the one hand in Max’s hair. Max felt the other grab the waistband of his jeans and pull. The denim tore and then both Val’s hands were pushing the material down to his knees, pushing his thighs apart. He winced as Val’s body weight crushed his exposed genitals against the floor.

Val’s hand was back in his hair, almost stroking Max’s scalp for a moment before sliding down to encircle the back of his neck, fingers cold and icy against his throat, nails needle-sharp and pressing into the skin.  The attempt at forcing pleasure on Max abruptly stopped when Val’s other hand moved to his ass, fingers pushing their way in. Max tried to move away from the painful intrusion and froze when Val growled.

Max closed his eyes. _No,_ he silently pled again. _Please, no._

The next thing he felt was a burning and tearing so intense that it momentarily overtook everything else. A strangled cry escaped his lips as Val’s hips slammed against him over and over, each fresh assault bringing new waves of pain that blossomed into continuous agony. When he tried to breathe, each breath caught in his throat, making it feel like he was suffocating. The force of Val’s thrusts ground Max’s bare legs and groin against the rough floor, abrading them over and over until the raw skin began to bleed.

Val submerged himself in his release. All the pent-up fear and rage and need was being emptied into the body beneath him and he re-doubled his efforts as he felt his orgasm crest, barely noticing the body beneath him flopping like a rag doll as he gasped and cried out incoherently. His release pounded through him, singing through his body and making him feel nearly as alive as the fresh influx of blood from his prey had minutes earlier.

Done, he pushed back and released his victim. A low moan caught his attention and he swung around, ready to do battle with whoever might challenge him over his prize, but only saw a dark huddled shape lying a few feet away. He sniffed to see if it might be more food and crawled over to stare as something tugged at his memory. He could see braids tipped with beads and a sense memory of running his fingers over the beads skittered through his brain. He knew this person…

_Tevis_

Val reared back as his conscious, thinking mind took hold and the animalistic nature of his Need, now sated, drew back. He could see Tevis’ chest slowly rise up and down but there was tacky blood at his throat meaning Val had fed. The look of the wound meant he hadn’t been careful nor had he bothered to close it up.

But if Tevis was here, then who..?

Val slowly turned back towards the other body. As his mind continued to clear and his other senses sharpened, he realized who the other body was.

 _Max_.

Val nearly collapsed. He realized where the rush of fresh blood must have come from and it left him dizzy and nauseated. He looked at Max, then down at himself, and wanted to vomit as he realized the body he’d been savaging…raping…had been Max.

“I’m sorry…I’m sorry,” he keened. “I’m sorry.” Clutching at his stomach, Val rocked back and forth, nails digging into his skin as he cried out for absolution. “I’m sorry…” He keened out his apology for several long moments until a small sound from the huddled body next to him brought him back to reality.

He moved slowly towards Max and carefully reached out to the torn jeans. Max stirred and made a pitiful sound when Val’s hands touched his skin and Val nearly drew back. Instead, he tried to sound soothing, in control even as he tried to avoid looking directly at the blood staining Max’s thighs. “It’s okay, Max,” he said softly. “It’s…” His voice broke as he tried to reassure the other man a second time and Val instead concentrated on pulling up the ragged remains of Max’s jeans and finding some way to fasten them. It seemed very important right then that Max be covered. He finally managed to pull the jeans up over Max’s legs, taking care not to rub the denim against the cuts and abrasions on Max’s lower body where he could. Fastening them proved a challenge but Val finally managed to secure a few buttons from the fly into the buttonholes.

Done, he backed away and went to crouch over by the door.  "Kill me..." It was barely a whisper, a plea. "I'm sorry...Max...I'm sorry."  A soft moan escaped him and, on the heels of that, another name. "Tevis..."  Blood-tinged tears fell on the floor as Val curled in on himself, shock and pain and sheer loss draining him of strength, with only a precarious hold on the sanity that had kept him from killing Max and Tevis.

"Cher..." Tevis’ voice was weak but audible and Val went still. “Cher, you have to stop. I am here. Stop.”

Val turned his head, looking at where Tevis lay. His lover’s eyes were fixed on him. There was still blood at his throat but it was only a trickle.

“You need to feed,” Tevis said. “To be…strong.”

"No... _no_. It will…it could happen again,” Val hissed. He was holding on to his sanity with both fists at this point, trying not to drown in the grief and shame that threatened to overwhelm him.

“Just a little,” Tevis murmured. “From each of us. You…you can do that,” he assured Val. “You have the control.”

Val let out a chuckle that turned into a sob. The results of his “control” were lying just a few feet away.

“You _can_ ,” Tevis insisted. “You…are the only one. To get us out. Just…just a little from Max and then you can come to me.”

Val nodded. Tevis and Max had to get out. They were here because of him so Val had to get them out. He crawled slowly back over to Max. Val’s hand shook as he slowly linked his fingers with Max’s and gently drew Max’s wrist up towards his mouth. There was no sign from his friend if he even knew what Val was doing but Val still moved slowly and cautiously, carefully numbing the area before biting into Max’s wrist and counting off the seconds as he drank. At what he thought was one minute, he closed the wound and tucked Max’s arm against his side.  What he had done was as sharp in his mind as the Hunger.  No apology could fix this.

Reaching Tevis’ side, he touched his lover’s face and listened for his pulse before he prepared his lover and bit. Val started to draw back several times but Tevis urged him to continue until his voice softly faded away. At that point, Val closed the wound and drew back. He knew he’d drained Tevis to a dangerous level but it would not be fatal if he could get them all out in time. Crispin wouldn't let them go. Val was surprised his sire had not yet come back to check on him, to gloat knowing that Val had killed two of the most precious people in the world to him.

But he hadn't. He clung to the thought. What he had done was nearly as bad, though. Tevis' survival was not a sure bet and he wanted to vomit all over again as the memory of what he had done to Max washed back over him in clear and excruciating detail. Val couldn’t even deny that as horrific as the act had been, it had felt…good. It had torn the other Need from him, the need that Crispin had been reinforcing over the weeks just as he had when he made Val.

He prowled the small room, stopping again at the door. He had been too weak when they first brought him here to do anything and then Crispin had come by every day or so to feed him, animals mostly, struggling creatures that Val had drained dry even as they squealed and torn them apart when they were dead and there was no more left.  He had fed upon Tevis’ command to keep the Hunger at bay if they were to survive.

Val knew there was only a steel plate on the inside of the door. He’d tried to somehow tear it off a dozen times during the early days of his capture with no luck. It had frustrated him because he’d managed to pop the door on the rooftop and also break the handcuffs at Jan’s. Now, it took on even greater importance because his finding a way to break the lock was the only chance Max and Tevis had of getting out and somewhere safe.

He had no idea how close it was to dawn but he couldn’t waste time. He had to think, to concentrate all the strength he had gained from his feedings on this door. He dug his fingers under the plate, hissing as the skin was torn.  _It's nothing_ , he told himself. _This pain is *nothing*_. It became a mantra as he pulled, putting all his strength into forcing the door open. The metal creaked and squealed and felt the plate bend, tearing as one of the rusted rivets snapped, then a second, the welded metal giving way. His muscles burned and protested but he kept at it.

The plate gave way and Val fell back, hitting the concrete hard. The Hunger, demanding more because of the demands he’d put on it, rose up and he ruthlessly shoved it back down. Staring at the door, Val could have cried. Removing the plate had done nothing save expose the hole in the door where the handle had once been. He got to his hands and knees, trying to think clearly, trying to ignore the strong bloodscent in the room that was starting to overwhelm his senses.

 _You've seen it._  He tried to picture the outside of the door, the heavy sliding bolt with the padlock. If the padlock was in place there was no way he was going to be able to open it. But if not...

He tore more skin as he thrust his hand into the small hole, but the blood actually made getting his hand through easier, acting as a lubricant,. He could feel the notched end of the bolt and growled as he managed to get his fingers on it and pulled. It gave minutely and he tried again. This time his fingers slipped and he snarled and beat on the door with his fist, anger warring with the Hunger for dominance.

Val rested his forehead against the door and fought for calm, unable to look at either Max or Tevis. "Mother of God, help me," he whispered. Tevis and Max were still alive. He had...raped Max, but Max could survive it. Val had survived -- even before he'd become a vampire. His beating from a john had been how he’d met Andy. As that memory surfaced so did one where Max had said that he and Adam and Andrew had come to New Orleans to look for him. If he could get just get Max and Tevis to them, they would be taken care of and the rest would take care of itself once Jan was able to check on Val’s tag.

His fingers gripped at the bolt again and he felt it give.  _Calm, be calm_  he thought but it was hard. He tried again but the bolt only moved what felt like millimeters.

Val redoubled his efforts, putting everything he had into moving the bolt. He had no idea how long it took, only that he was aware of the two heartbeats in the room. He looked back to see Max on the floor; unconscious he thought. Tevis was still as well and the Hunger reared up. It would be so easy since neither of them could fight.

He thrust the thoughts back down and tried again. “Please, God,” he begged and pulled on the bolt as hard as he could.

And felt the bolt snap out of its catch. It stunned him. He was so focused on the movement that the sound startled him so much that for a moment he didn't know what had happened. He pulled his hand out, barely noticing the flesh scored to the bone from the sharp metal. He pushed at the door and heard it creak, then give way.

He listened and smelled and sought for anything beyond and was greeted only by the damp night scents.

"Max...Tevis," he called softly. “It’s open. The door is open."

Val’s voice penetrated the haze Max had been floating in ever since the attack and he wearily turned his head towards the vampire. He felt cold and heavy, like he was weighted to the floor. Pain radiated through his entire body.

He licked his lips, barely even registering the metallic taste of dried blood. “What?” he whispered.

“Door,” Val said again, his voice cracking at the sight of Max’s face. “It’s open. I did it. Can…can you get up at all? I need to help Tevis. We can get out.”

Max fixed his eyes on the door while he rolled Val’s words around in his head until they made some kind of sense. Go. They could go. He blinked and Val was beside him. Startled, Max tried to pull back but his body refused to obey him. Instead, he lay there, looking up at Val and wondering if this would be when he would die.

“Max…”

Max blinked again as Val said his name. Val was…crying? Why would he do that? The answer came rushing back in as consciousness grabbed him by the throat.

“Max, please. If you can get up, I can get Tevis. I can…I can help you.”

At that, Max rapidly shook his head and winced as pain raced along his nerve endings. _No_. Slowly, laboriously, he managed to roll onto his side and Val could see him trying to gather both the strength and coordination to push himself up. He wanted to help and his hands flexed open and shut several times at having to witness Max’s faltering attempts and not touch his friend. But he couldn’t. Wouldn’t. Max had said no. The least Val could do now was honor that – but that didn’t mean the sounds his friend made as he tried to get up didn’t tear at Val’s heart.

When Max finally made it to his hands and knees, Val turned to Tevis. The Hunger was waiting for him but it wasn’t trying to take over yet. "Cher," he whispered, touching Tevis' face. The skin was too cool but Tevis’ heart was beating and picking his lover up was hardly any strain. He nuzzled at Tevis' throat.  _Just a little..._ It would be easy to do. So easy. But if he fed he wouldn't be able to stop. Val resolutely stepped towards the door and waited as Max rose to his feet and stumbled after him.

"No one close," he said, unable to meet Max’s eyes.  _He's alive_ , Val reassured himself. _The rest...the rest we'll deal with later._

"Andy," Max said thickly through his swollen and lacerated mouth. “Need…Andy.” Andy would make light. He remembered that.

"Andy?" Val stopped. He hadn't realized that Max had meant Andrew had come with him and Tevis to the plantation. "Where?"

"First..." Max trailed off and simply pointed, making himself follow Val and Tevis. He shambled to a stop when they reached Andy’s building, wanting nothing more than to simply fall down on the ground and close his eyes, ride the waves of pain buffeting his body into the darkness that edged his vision. But every time he closed his eyes, a voice told him to open them again, that they needed Andy for his light and Max wouldn’t be able to see Andy’s light if he slipped into the dark. So he numbly waited as Val set Tevis down and approached the other building.

Since they were on the outside versus trapped inside, this lock opened far easier than their own prison – a fact for which Val was grateful. When he slid the bolt and opened the door, Andy almost fell on top of him. He was conscious but his face was gray and his breathing labored. One hand clutched his chest as if he was in pain. The thing in the corner was still but fidgeting.

"Oh, Val," Andrew said dully. "Nice to see you. I'd introduce you to my friend but he's not very sociable.” His voice faded to a whisper on the final words. Andy’s left arm hung awkwardly and his clothes were torn.

"Another time," Val said and caught Andrew under his shoulders, pulling him out of the room and closing the door again and bolting it.  "Time to go," he said to other man and Andy stared at him for a moment, then nodded. Val helped him steady himself and then offered help only as Andy seemed to need it, the other man appearing to grow a little stronger as they began to move.

"You look like shit," Andy observed.

“Thanks.” It was on the tip of Val's tongue to say that Andy should see the other guy – except the other guy was Max and Val couldn't deal with that right now.

Andy stopped as they drew close to Max and Tevis. “Fuck,” he softly cursed. “You gotta treat your friends nicer, Val,” he said and missed the vampire flinching away from the words. “Max…Max, how you doing?” Andy asked, not liking what he saw. Shock was the least of it.

 _Fine._ Max thought he said it aloud but maybe Andy hadn’t heard him. _Fine._

Val couldn’t stand it anymore. Tevis was on the ground, unconscious. Max was little better than a walking zombie and Andy’s arm looked broken – not to mention he could hear Andy’s heart beating and it didn’t sound right. He had to get them out of there.

"You came by car?" Val asked.

"Yeah," Andrew said, trying to cradle his arm more securely. "End of the lane," he murmured and Val picked up Tevis again, moving along the road. He spared a glance back to see Andy coming alongside Max and gently coaxing him to start walking again. When they reached the car, Val eased Tevis into the backseat and Andy followed suit with Max, barely suppressing a gasp when his arm was jostled. When Andy opened his door but Val made no attempt to open the passenger side, Andy stopped.

"Val?" Andrew asked.

"Can't. Too close. I‘m too Hungry,” Val whimpered.

"Then feed off me,” Andrew said firmly.

"Can't. Your heart’s not beating right. You need a doctor or something.” Val backed up a step. “Just go, Andy, before they come looking!”

“C’mon, Val,” Andy pled. “Just get in the car so we can go. We need to get help for Max and Tevis.”

Val wanted to shut his eyes and put his fingers in his ears. He glanced into the backseat before he could stop himself. Black and blue bruising covered Max’s face and blood from his broken nose and Val’s punches looked like macabre war paint. That wasn’t even counting what else Val had done to him. Both he and Tevis resembled nothing so much as fresh corpses.

Andy tried to dredge up enough energy to infuse his voice with command intent that would hopefully break through Val’s self-flagellation. They could deal with what had happened later in safer surroundings, but they needed to be out of here before Crispin or any of his friends returned. “Val,” he snapped. “If you want to be a noble, self-sacrificing son of a bitch, do it on your own time. Tevis is here. He’s not dead but he might be if we don’t leave. Not to mention that he’s going to want _you_ and not some story about how we left you here.” Andy was counting on Val’s love for Tevis to be the deciding factor and if it was emotional blackmail, then so be it.

“Keep it together a little longer, Val," Andy cajoled. "Get in.” It was a dangerous play. Val might be able to hold it together or he might go completely ballistic on all of them in the car. But if they lost Val now, they would lose him for good, and losing anyone at this point was too high of a price to pay.

Val hesitated, glancing at Tevis with a stricken expression on his face. "If I kill, there is .no forgiveness," he said harshly.

"Fine. Now get in.”

Andy managed to fit the key in the ignition and then carefully drove out of the area and back to the hotel, pulling into the parking garage with a sigh of relief. He sat for a moment, breathing slowly, relishing the simple, firm feel of the steering wheel underneath his hand and the fact that he was still upright. Glancing in the rear view mirror, however, he realized they had a new problem on their hands: how to get everyone, including Val, who was still naked, to the rooms. There was a noise from the backseat and he looked in the rear view mirror to see Max had his eyes open. Whether he really saw anything was another matter.

He bit his lip. Both Tevis and Max were in bad shape and the second hand kept ticking towards dawn. He didn’t know where his cell phone had gone and guessed it was probably underneath the dead creature they’d left at the plantation. He heard a slight moan from the backseat and made a decision.

“I think I’m okay enough to walk to the rooms,” Andy said. His legs felt shaky and his arm pulsed and throbbed but, of the group of them, he was reasonably the one least likely to collapse or draw attention. “I’m going to get Adam and some clothes for Val. All of you need to stay here in the car until we get back. Val?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” Time to apply a little more emotional blackmail. “Because you’re going to have to carry Tevis. I can’t do it and neither can Max.” He switched his gaze in the mirror. “Max?”

Max continued staring, not responding until Andy said his name sharply several more times. What he got in response was a slow nod. It wasn’t a response he was particularly happy with but if that was all he could get that signaled Max was still with them, he’d take it. Grimacing, Andy opened the door and stumbled out of the car, then shut the door. He cast one glance back and then set off for the stairs.

They were alone in the car. "Max..." Val tried. “I…I…” He stopped as Max’s eyes closed but continued gazing at the bloody mess of his friend’s face. As he watched, he saw moisture leak out from under Max’s closed lids and trickle down, making small furrows in the dried blood. Max’s lips moved and while no sound came out that anyone else would have been able to hear, Val’s enhanced hearing caught what Max said.

_No._

Val subsided. He reached out and tentatively stroked Tevis’ arm until he heard footsteps. Looking up, he saw the passenger door open and Adam peering inside.

“Here. Take these.” Adam handed in a pair of pants and a T-shirt to Val. “Get out and get dressed. You’re going to carry Tevis while I help Max.” He waited until Val moved and settled Tevis carefully against the car seat, then grabbed the clothes before he turned his attention to Max. He schooled his features into what he hoped resembled calm as he saw the outward extent of what Andy had been briefly able to warn him about upstairs.

“Max,” Adam said softly. “We’re going to go someplace safe but I need you to help me if you can, all right? Max?”

Max didn’t want to open his eyes but the voice was soothing, compelling in its own way. It promised safety so he concentrated on lifting his heavy eyelids. A blurry face swam in front of him and slowly came into focus. “Adam?”

It was barely a whisper but it meant Max was at least somewhat coherent and hopefully pliable enough to follow directions. Adam was thankful for that much. “Yes.”

“What…?”

“We need to go upstairs. Remember our rooms? You’ll be safe there,” Adam repeated in low tones. “I need you to help me as much as you can.” Max had lost a lot of blood – that much was painfully obvious – but the physical injuries, coupled with shock and Val’s brutal attack had Max somewhere in a nether world Adam had very little time to try and break into before someone came down to the parking garage and saw them.

He reached in and gently touched Max’s shoulder, waiting patiently when Max twitched away and then slowly resting a hand on his shoulder again. “Slide out towards me. I’ll help.” Adam tried not to wince in sympathy at the sounds or grimaces Max made while moving bit by bit across the seat and towards the door.

He looked up to see Val watching them. “Val, finish dressing and help Tevis,” Adam said firmly. When Max was near enough, Adam reached in and helped him out, frowning at the bloody smears on the seat. He kept touching Max gently and speaking to him in an effort to keep him responsive. Val finished dressing and had Tevis in his arms a moment later. “Go towards the stairs, Val,” Adam ordered. “Don’t wait for us. You need to be inside and taken care of before dawn.”

Val nodded and moved quickly away.

“Okay, Max,” Adam said. “I know it hurts but the sooner we’re in the rooms, the sooner we’re safe.” Max’s shirt was bloody and torn and his jeans were hanging on by one crooked button but Adam couldn’t spare any time to try and cover Max more. They’d just have to hope for the best. He looped one of Max’s arms around his shoulders, put an arm around his waist and began to walk him towards the stairwell.

He could feel the younger man shaking as they laboriously made their way up the first set of steps. After a few false starts, Max seemed to get the idea, slowly and carefully planting one foot in front of the other. Two flights from their floor, Adam stopped to let Max rest against the wall for a moment. “Doing good. We’re almost there,” he soothed.

“Sorry…” came a mumble from his companion.

“For what, Max?”

“Lot…” Max’s voice trailed off. Adam saw him try to breathe and stop with only a very shallow breath – whether it was because of his broken nose or other injuries, Adam couldn’t tell. “Lot of…trouble,” Max finally breathed. “Always.”

“You?” Adam asked and saw Max nod. “No,” he said. “You certainly are _not_ ‘trouble’ and whoever told you that was an asshole.” He glanced up the stairs and then back at Max. “Come on, just a bit longer and we’ll be there.”

Max followed on autopilot. The steps produced a short, jarring sensation that shot up his spine but it was just one more sensation to catalog in a body already overloaded. When they reached the room, Adam steadied Max with one hand and knocked with the other. Andy opened the door and shut it quickly after they’d entered.

The next thing that Max’s awareness centered on was a sheet covered body on the floor, blood stains on the cloth. From the position the body was lying in, whomever or whatever it was, was very dead. “What?” he asked, unable to tear his eyes away.

"I had visitors," Adam said tersely as he maneuvered Max around the body. "Jan’s and Evan’s plane just got in. They’ll be here in about an hour,” he said to Andy.

Tevis was already stretched out on one of the beds in the room, Val sitting next to him, and Adam helped Max onto the other one. When Max curled up on his side, Adam put a blanket over him, then rubbed his hands over his face, sighing harshly. At times like this he wished he had Jan's gifts, had trained for this instead of so stubbornly resisting it. Jan could lock away these memories, dull down the experience, until Max was ready to deal with it…and with Val.

"We're close," Andrew warned Adam.

"I know...I saw it downstairs," Adam said softly. “In addition to that added problem, it’s not like we can run either of these two down to the emergency room for a transfusion without causing a lot of unwanted attention. This is just fucked all the way around.” He sighed again. “Sit down. We need to get your wound clean. Jan or Evan can take care of the rest of it.”

"What are you going to do with that?" Andrew asked his partner, pointing his chin towards the body as Adam crouched down and checked his arm, a washcloth and the room coffee pot filled with water beside him.

"Put it on the fire escape and let the dawn take care of it.” Adam wet the washcloth and wrung it out. “Val,” he said as he worked, “why don’t you take a shower. I'll watch Tevis.”Val rose obediently and, robot-like, stumbled into the bathroom and closed the door.

Adam finished cleaning Andy’s wound and gently wrapped a towel around it. “Try and not move around too much,” he cautioned. Andy nodded even as his gaze moved to the closed bathroom door.

Adam moved to Max. "Max, you’re…” The word “okay” stuck in his throat. “Safe,” he substituted. “Let us help. Let Jan help when he gets here. You’re safe,” he repeated. He might has well have been talking to a statue. Max didn’t move or speak and the only way Adam could really even tell Max was alive was by carefully listening for the raspy, gulping breaths the younger man would make.

The bathroom door opened and a cloud of steam rolled out. Val appeared right after, hair wet and a towel wrapped around his middle. He looked over at the duo on the bed and took a faltering step but Adam raised his head and shook it slightly at Val and the younger man retreated over to where Andy was gingerly rising from his chair.

"Let me get you one of my shirts, Val. It'll be too big but at least you'll have something clean to wear for the moment. It's in the next room." Andy carefully reached out, lightly touching Val's shoulder to guide him out the door and the few steps to the adjoining room, keeping a light stream of chatter going all the time to keep Val oriented to time and place.

Adam tried but no amount of coaxing would get Max to look at him or speak. He could have shouted with relief when he heard a knock at the room’s door and recognized Jan’s voice. “Come in,” he said shortly, eyes still on the young man in front of him.

"Oh, Christ," Jan murmured as he entered the room. "You weren't kidding when you said you took the express to hell. Evan's on his way up, too. Shit,” he cursed under his breath. “Okay, who first before I feel the effects of my little flight?"

"Tevis is the one we are most likely to lose, then Max. Andy has Val in the other room. He’s probably the best of everyone physically,” Adam said, looking up at Jan from his seated position next to Max. He started to say more but cut himself off, indicating to Jan that they would talk later.

"I'll leave Tevis to Evan.”

Max heard footsteps and felt the mattress moved slightly, jostling him. He didn’t care. He let the pain radiating through his face and his body take center stage, let it overwhelm him and drive its sharp spikes into him.  Anything to avoid…

A hand touched the top of his head. Startled, he opened his eyes to see Jan sitting in front of him.  "We didn't do you any favors did we, Max?" he said softly, and Max felt Jan’s hand move gently down the side of his face and the tips of his fingers came to rest against Max’s forehead and temple.

Then Max knew nothing except the final thought that followed him down into darkness.

_No._


	18. What Comes Next

_Should I open up my eyes or just ignore who you are and what you could have been And should I open up my eyes and make believe you will change so it's easier to not stay, to not stay_

  * _Shinedown_




A slight creak was the sound that brought him back to semi-awareness. He thought he heard a voice but it was muffled like he was underwater. Soft warmth wrapped around him and he floated on that, letting the sounds around him ebb and flow as he slowly rose towards the surface.

“Max?”

His eyes opened and the first thing he saw was Adam sitting in a chair by the bed. He blinked as Adam sipped from a cup of coffee before setting it on the nightstand and leaning over, elbows on his knees. “It’s fine, Max. You’re safe.”

Max squeezed his eyes shut at the torrent of memories as they flooded in and closed around him. _No._ The bedding that had felt so warm and soft now felt like a trap. He started fighting to free himself and stopped, panting, when Adam laid a hand on his chest and pushed him gently back down.

“You’re safe,” Adam repeated. “You’ve also lost a lot of blood and need to take it easy.” When Max’s eyes cleared and Adam saw recognition come back into them, he removed his hand and sat back down in the chair.

Max lay there and tried to muster a stream of coherent thought. What came to him first was that Adam looked rumpled and tired. The second was that, while he still hurt, it was a dull, all-over throbbing compared to what he remembered of the previous evening. As he considered that, Max realized that he was naked underneath the bedclothes. He shied away from that thought and looked over at Adam again to find the other man looking at him in concern.

“What…?” he asked.

“What happened?” Adam guessed. When Max nodded, he said, “We needed to assess and work on your injuries. You weren’t in a frame of mind to really help us so Jan just gave you a little push in the right direction.” Adam knew Max had been a recipient of an Adept’s “assistance” before back when he and Val had first showed up to speak to Jan. But the humorous aftermath Pete had described was a far cry from the confused look on Max’s face and the fearful tone in his voice.

“You need to rest,” Adam said. “I can answer questions later but your primary job right now is to heal.” _Inside and out_ , he thought but didn’t say it. Instead, he reached out slowly and carefully so Max could track him and gently placed his fingers on either side of Max’s nose and cheekbones, slightly pressing down. “Hurt at all?”

“Little bit,” Max said. He licked dry lips. “Aches.”

“That’s good.” Adam continued to move slowly and pulled down the bedclothes just enough to free one of Max arms. After Jan had worked, they’d wrapped Max’s forearms from wrist to elbow to protect the healing wounds. He caught Max watching, brow furrowed, as Adam unwrapped the bandages. “Just checking,” he reassured as he finished one arm and started on the other. When he was finished, he took one of Max’s hands in his, turning it over to look at it critically. "Shouldn't leave scars," he murmured before catching Max’s gaze with his own and holding it." About the other, however..."

“Other what?" Max asked warily. His muscles protested but he pulled himself up to a half-sitting position, leaning heavily against the headboard. His mind was feeling clearer, which was good but it also meant that his memories were awakening and clamoring for his attention and he tried to shove them back down where he kept the things he didn’t want to think about.

"Val raping you," Adam said baldly.

Max looked away towards the opposite wall. “It happened. We don’t need to talk about it.”

"I think we do."

Max shrugged. "It happened," he said again, trying to shut off the pictures that flashed through his mind despite his best efforts. "He didn't mean to." His voice cracked on the last two words. Val was his friend, right?

"Whether or not he meant it is immaterial," Adam responded. "The fact remains it happened and you need to decide what you want to do about it." Max didn’t respond so he pressed on. "The memory, Max, can be removed or...submerged, dulled, until a time when you think you can deal with it. It will still be there but the impact will be less or, as far as the two of you are concerned, it will never have happened. If you want that, we can make it happen."

The words slid in under the armor Max was hastily trying to construct. It was a seductive offer, compelling even, to not be able to recall the event in excruciating detail, think of it without the immediate lancing pain in his soul or not even think of it at all. What if someone had been able to do that to him with Rebecca? It would have saved him so much in the way of self-recrimination, so much wandering trying to find his path, so much guilt. But even as he considered it, Max argued the flip side of the coin with himself. If he hadn't wrestled with the questions brought about by his complicity, if not responsibility in Rebecca’s death, would he be where he was today? Like it or not, that experience had helped mold him into who he was now. And although the offer from Adam would bring about a lot of peace right now, Max knew it would be a false peace because, sooner or later, he’d have to deal with it…and with Val.

He turned his head to see Adam. "No," he answered. "If I do, it's still just like Rebecca - except it's a Rebecca nobody talks about. Y'all will still treat me the same for the most part but there'll be those glances I won't understand or comments that will stop when I walk in a room. I don't want that."

Adam nodded and his expression seemed to communicate approval of Max’s decision. “It’s your choice, Max. The option will still be there if you find you need it even just for a little while.”

“I gotta figure this out,” Max whispered whether to himself or Adam it wasn’t clear. His eyes were back on the wall opposite him. “I can’t be afraid of him. I can make that happen.” His gaze swung to Adam. “Right?”

Adam sighed. “Listen to me, Max. Please. And understand when I say that I don’t know if you can.” When Max shifted in the bed, Adam reached out a hand, laid on Max’s knee, and waited until the younger man looked at him.

"I know you want to help him. I know your heart is saying that what attacked you last night wasn't Val but your brain knows better. Your heart believes in your friendship and you may be able to rationalize the circumstances that would cause your best friend to rape you if you only think with your heart. You may even be thinking that if you hadn’t fought him, he wouldn't have hurt you.”

Adam’s voice grew insistent. “But what happened is that your best friend, in whatever state of mind he was in, held you down and _forced_ you to endure something you would never have sought on your own and weren't ready for. And that same nature tried to make you enjoy it.”

“On the flip side, I know that Val is so sick with regret he can hardly stand to look at himself – much less you. I know that he’s angry with Tevis for not waiting when Tevis knew damn well what state he’d be in. _Non_ e of it is rational, Max, and you have every right to be angry and afraid because no matter what we say or do, it could happen again. And it might, should you continue your association with him," Adam said. His voice was harsh, implacable, and his gray eyes showed no mercy for Val or for Max. "In some ways it might have been better for him if he had killed you because then there would be no doubt at all as to his fate. But he didn’t and you now have more power over that fate than you even know.”

He sat back and picked up the long-forgotten coffee cup, grimacing at the cold liquid but drinking it anyway. “Your feelings should not be dependent on what you think you should feel regardless of your friendship. You need to make sure you honestly know what you feel and start from there with any other decisions. Nobody will think ill of you either way you decide.”

Max nodded, grateful that Adam had eased off and was not so close anymore. He looked down to find he’d laced his fingers together and slowly released them, noticing small half-moons where his nails had bit into the skin. "I don't want to feel anything about what happened,” he said, rubbing his right thumb against his left palm. “I don’t want to think about it. I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want to see it every damn time I close my eyes.” _I don’t want to be afraid._

“So…you push it down and pretend it doesn’t exist?” Adam asked, his voice soft but relentless. “What happens when you can’t push it down any longer? Go back to using so you can try to keep drowning it out? Shut Theresa out and leave her hurt and wondering what she did wrong? Give up the hope of her love and the love of anyone else because you’re too busy trying to ignore it instead of dealing with it?”

"I don't know," Max ground out. _Fucking psychic samurai_. That title Adam had given to the Pillars, half in jest, now felt truer than Max wanted it to. Whether guessing or not, Adam had managed to touch on Max’s exact concerns. What would happen if he _couldn’t_ figure out a way to deal with this? Could he and Val still be friends? How was he going to return to Atlanta and be with Tree…look at her…touch her…without the memories of last night?

“I’m not trying to hurt you or pressure you, Max,” Adam said. He leaned back in his chair. “But you came to Atlanta to make a life for yourself. Any life you carve out, these questions are going to follow you. Wouldn’t it be better to work them out amongst people who care about you? Amongst friends?” he added.

“Friends?” Max asked as he looked at Adam, who grinned and nodded.

“Andy, especially. But me too. However, Andy’s decided to adopt you.” Adam chuckled. “He says you remind him of me.” He chuckled again as Max snorted at the statement. “He takes his adoptees very seriously, by the way. Consider yourself duly warned.”

“I know patience isn’t necessarily your strong suit but try to practice some. All this is fresh and raw and there is no need for you to decide on a course of action this instant. Rest. We had to use some of your strength in healing so you’re going to be tired. You also lost a lot of blood. Take some time to think – I know how you love that word. Just like you don’t know what to do, Val doesn’t either. He’s never been the rapist before." Adam finished and stood up.

“I’m going to get some sleep. Andy should be up if you want to check in on him. He’ll probably be with a few other people who flew in with Evan and Jan. One is a tall, lovely, black woman named Clea. She’s Evan's assistant. Paul is blond, slightly shorter than me and built like a wrestler. He's Evan's bodyguard. You'll know him from the Brooklyn accent.”

"Adam," Max said quickly, waiting until Adam looked back. "Thanks."

"You are welcome," Adam said with a grin and shook his head. "Although I'm not quite sure thanks are appropriate. I'll take them though.” And then he was gone, closing the door behind him.

Max stared after him a moment before slowly pushing the covers back and standing up. His muscles protested, signaling their unhappiness in aches and pains of various degrees as he hobbled towards the bathroom and turned on the shower.

While waiting for the water to warm, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and stopped dead, staring at his body. Adam had kept saying something about healing him and Max had half-taken in that information along with everything else Adam had told him. But, looking in the mirror, it became incredibly, completely apparent that they had _healed_ him.

The marks along his arms looked days old versus hours. Touching them, Max found they were still sore and tender but the skin was pink and fresh. There was also new pink skin on his torso and legs and the bruises he could see were the fading yellow and green of healing versus black and blue. He was a little…no, a _lot_ stunned.

Max slowly raised his eyes to look at his face in the mirror. There was no blood. He sniffed and couldn’t even catch a hint of the iron scent that had been so strong in his nostrils last night. He could see a fading mouse under one eye and when he cautiously pressed on his nose there was the same dull ache that Adam’s actions had produced but nothing more.

They had _healed_ him. Max didn’t know whether to laugh or cry and was afraid to attempt either for fear he’d never stop. Instead, he resolutely turned away from the mirror and stepped into the shower.

He didn’t get out until the water ran cold and then roughly toweled off. Someone had brought over his bag and he rummaged through it, pulling on clean clothes, socks and shoes. Adam had told him he should rest and eat something but Max felt restless, not hungry. Closing the door to his room, he paused briefly in front of the room he knew Val was in and even placed his hand on the knob before a memory of Val's feral, victorious smile interfered and Max jerked his hand off the knob as if it had burned him.

_Forget it._ Turning, he went to the elevator and down to where he knew the pool area was. Adam had said to rest. Max figured he'd do it out in the warm sun where he could be alone and maybe his thoughts wouldn't even follow.

He found a lounge chair and stretched out. The sun was warm on his face and soaked into his T-shirt; he could feel it along the healing skin of his arms as well. The heat made him sleepy and Max was pleasantly dozing until he heard a voice.

"You gotta be Max," was barked out in a Brooklyn accent.

Startled, Max looked up, squinting to see a short, blond man similar to who Adam had described. The guy had a cocky bearing but seemed friendly enough when he smiled and held out a hand. "You must be Paulie," Max said. "The Brooklyn boy?"

"Uh-huh," Paulie said, sitting on the chair next to him. "What's it to ya?" he grinned.

Max grinned back and changed accents. "Jersey boy. Nice to see somebody from my side of the Coast."

"Part-time,” Paulie said. “My parents were snowbirds so I always think of the south as a second home.”

"You snowbird types,” Max lamented as he shifted back in the Cajun-Jersey hybrid accent Val had commented on early in their relationship. “See the sun once and you forget all about the charming back East winters.”

Paulie laughed. “Yeah. Real charming. Before we start comparing expressways and all that, Andrew asked me to check on you. Make sure you ate something."

That caught Max’s attention. “He’s up? Doing okay?”

"He's up," Paulie said stretching out on a chair next to Max to take in more sun on his already bronzed skin. "Clea is dancing attendance like a nervous cat. Better her tame the bear than me. He doesn't bite women."

Biting. Max involuntarily put a hand up to his neck and felt only unmarked skin before bringing it back down and once again seeing the healing scabs. “Thanks. I’m…I’m good.”

"You really should eat something, Max," Paulie said casually. "I'd hate to have to force-feed you," he added with a faint smile but Max got the impression Paulie wasn’t entirely kidding.

Force feed. That was even worse. "If I eat," Max sighed, "do you promise not to talk anymore about food or biting or any of that?" Paulie nodded and Max dragged himself of the lounge chair to follow Paulie into the hotel’s restaurant. Nothing on the menu interested him but he figured a bowl of soup and some crackers would probably be a safe bet. Max managed about half the bowl of soup until Paulie’s order – steak, rare – appeared. When Paulie cut into it and Max could see pink and the steak’s juices oozing onto the plate, he switched solely to crackers in an effort to keep down the vomit threatening to make an appearance.

It was a close call.

After they ate, Paulie took Max upstairs to meet Clea. She was stunning with skin the color of dark bronze, high cheekbones and dark eyes. Her hair was incredibly short, just a fuzz of tiny curls. She smiled a greeting at Max and then gave a less than pleased look at Paulie.

"Your turn to sit on him," she said, her voice low and pleasant.

"Not fair, Clee!" Andrew protested. "You haven't sat on me yet." He was dressed and sitting on the bed, resting against some pillows. His blond hair was pushed back from his face and emphasized how pale and tired Andy looked. There were dark circles under his eyes and he seemed disinclined to move very often. When he did, his, lips compressed into a thin line.

"Sounds healthy to me," Paulie said and checked the door to the other room. "Anything from Evan?"

"Not a peep. They won't be able to see the Prince until after sunset. They’re making the rounds of the Voices we have here now since Jan is scheduled out at midnight."

"He seems to be holding up pretty well," Paulie commented and sat down on the bed. From a back holster he produced a small, deadly looking handgun.

"We'll see. Evan is not inclined to push it," Clea retorted as she settled down at the table with her laptop.

"Tevis eaten?" Andrew asked.

"Hmmm," Clea answered. "Some soup while you were napping. He's asleep again."

"Crash if you need to, Max," Andrew said to him. "Nothing happening much until we hear back from Jan and Evan."

"No thanks," Max answered. Closing his eyes was one of the last things he wanted to do. He gestured at Paulie instead. "This guy Evan need that much protection?"

"I’m more worried about Evan getting mugged than I am him being set on by bloodsuckers," Paulie said evenly. "Bad choice on their part should they try anything -'specially with Jan on hand and Adam only a few miles away. Might as well call down a nuclear strike."

_Well, that was certainly enlightening. Not._ He left Clea and Paulie to their machinations and went over to sit gingerly by Andy's shoulder. "How you feeling?"

No matter his health, the smile Andrew gave him was welcome and unaffected. "I dearly love to be waited on hand and foot," he teased but saw Max's concern. "I'm okay, Max." He held up a rather stiff looking left arm. "Break's healing up and I’ll be playing softball in a week or two. Sleep and good food will take care of the rest but I think I’m done touring the old plantations of New Orleans for a while. The local wildlife and I seem to disagree," he joked but there was a catch in his voice and Max saw a glint of fear cross the handsome face.

"Well, you look a hell of a lot better than you did last night. Gray is not your color." A thought struck him. "Val mentioned something about your heart?"

A little color in his face as Andy touched the middle of his chest with his good hand. "Yeah, well, had a little accident a few years back. Had to have some surgery and Adam says I push little too hard sometimes. But I’ll be fine,” he added with another reassuring smile.

Max looked over at Clea and Paulie again. "So what happens now that the Avengers are here? And is Paulie the new Emma Peel?”

That got a chuckle. "No, but he could use a pair of heels now and again couldn't you, short stuff?" Andy said.

"Fuck you, McAran," Paulie said amiably.

"Cannot take the streets out of the boy," Andrew despaired. "Where Evan goes, these two go,” he explained to Max. “Clea keeps track of the books and Paulie keep track of the bodies," he said and got another grin from Paulie.

"Actually, Captain Paul Morgan," Adam said as he emerged from the adjoining room. He looked more rested but he was still limping and the welts on his arms looked less healed than Max's. "Discharged. Navy SEAL. Probably CIA, too, but he's not talking."

"You know there are reasons I work in the private sector, Adam," Paulie said flatly.

"Me too," Adam said and there was a clash of eyes which Paul lost. Adam didn't press his victory, instead seeking out coffee from the urn on a side table. "You look some better, Max," he commented, standing behind Clea to look at her laptop screen over her shoulder.

"So do you," Max noted. "Paulie mentioned something about...force-feeding. Didn't sound like something I really wanted to investigate."

“He didn’t puke so I figured my work was done,” Paulie said and Max studiously avoided looking at anyone. Nobody needed to know a mouthful of crackers had been the thin blue line.

"I'm going to check on our other guests," Adam glanced at Max before heading for the other room. "Sunset in about thirty minutes."

Max jumped up which jostled Andy slightly and earned him a pained look. He threw his friend an apologetic glance but kept moving. "I'm gonna go take a walk. Be back in a bit." He sidled out the door before anyone could say anything.

He ended up by the pool again and perched on the edge of a lounge chair, elbows on his knees and chin in his hands while he tried to think. Sunset. That meant Val would be awake. Adam had said it was okay if Max didn’t know what to do.

  _I'm not mad. I don't hate him_ , he kept trying to tell himself. The problem was while Max could and had easily lied to countless people over his life, his short association with Andy and Adam had begun to render him incapable of lying to himself any longer. Every time he closed his eyes it was Val's face he saw, Val's hands he felt holding him down, and Val's teeth tearing at the flesh on his neck.

Val raping him.

Adam’s words about being forced to endure something he hadn’t asked for were truer than maybe the man knew and Max hoped that, in all his short association with MATADA, no one had decided to go digging into his background any further than Jan’s “blind, blanket” job interview. Back then, he hadn’t even known what to call it – just that it _felt_ wrong. Max had never been able to determine if he’d been too embarrassed or too scared to say anything and he’d just shoved those memories down as far as they could go. Now, they were rising up, seeping in around the edges of his memory and tying themselves to last night’s debacle.

He didn’t want them to. He didn’t want to associate anything like that with Val. Val was his friend. Val wasn’t like…them, he told himself, but a glance down at the nearly-healed wounds on his forearms told a different story.

Max knew he still wanted Val in his life. He wanted their easy bantering friendship, the way they had each other’s backs. Max hadn’t trusted anyone in a very long time and he couldn’t say what it was about Val that had caused him to do so but he had – almost unthinkingly. He wanted to be able to trust Val like that again.

He just didn’t see how that could ever happen. He also couldn’t see how he could ever go back to Atlanta and be “normal” for whatever value of normal included friends, a job and a girlfriend. He could _never_ tell Theresa about this and if he couldn’t find some way to deal with it, then there was no point to going back to Atlanta if all he was going to do was drag her down with him or make her unhappy because of this. Nothing was going to help. He might as well admit that and move on. He’d come to New Orleans to help a friend and it apparently was going to cost him everything.

Max numbly stood and wandered out into the lobby of the hotel and then out into the streets. He took a moment to get his bearings then started walking aimlessly, not looking left or right and barely crossing the street on the correct side of the signal. When he finally did look around, he noticed his steps were leading him to a park he’d visited a few times during his early days in New Orleans when he’d just come off the road to work for Vault. He’d needed something to numb himself and the park’s denizens were happy to provide it for the right price.

Crossing the street, he stepped up onto the curb and leaned against the trunk of a large tree while he tried to spy someone who looked vaguely familiar.

"And what the fuck do you think you're doing here?"

Max whirled around. "Paulie! You tryin' to scare me or what?"

"Hopefully, I did more than try," Paulie shot back. "Let’s think about it. It's getting dark. Half the vampires in this city would like to present your empty head to Madeleine or Crispin or both if they can manage it, so I got reassigned bodyguard duty." He surveyed the park in front of them without comment but his eyes narrowed as he took in the sight in front of him. "Nice place. What's your pleasure, Max? Coke? Little crack maybe? Heroin? No, then I'd have to find a pharmacy for the needles.” He pulled out his wallet. "Which do you want, Max? You stay here in the light where I can see you and I'll score."

"Get real," Max scoffed. Paulie made him nervous. The way he pressed close to Max, almost literally in his face, forced the younger man to take a step back. " _You_  are gonna score for _me_?"

"I'm not kidding," Paulie said flatly. "My assignment was to make sure no one else killed you. Nobody said anything about stopping you from killing yourself."

"Well, ain't it grand that somebody gave you instructions, cher?" Max snapped. "Did you manage to write 'em down on your own? Fuck off." He turned away and gazed out at the park again, spotting a guy he thought he remembered and dug into his pockets. His sweaty hand came into contact with the money he’d stuffed in there and he crumpled the bills in his fist.

"How many ounces? Just a hit or you want a little to tuck away for a bad day?" Paulie spat.

"How about enough so I don't have to hear you in my ear anymore?” Fuck this guy. Fuck all this crap about _thinking_ and making sure what he _felt_. “How about enough so it all just fuckin' goes away and I don't have to hear it or see it ever again."

"What's the matter, Max? Feeling a little out of sorts?" Paulie needled. "Need to wipe out the memory that your best friend fucked you up the ass and forgot to ask permission?"

"You son of a bitch," Max growled. Drugs momentarily forgotten, he doubled up his fist and went for it.

Paulie took the punches and went with them. He blocked the potentially dangerous ones but made no effort to strike back; rather, letting Max exhaust himself which came quicker than it would have considering that Max was still recovering from loss of blood and the wounds sustained during his imprisonment with Val. When Paulie saw his chance, he grabbed Max's fist as it came towards him, sidestepped smoothly and turned so that he was behind Max, forcing the young man's arm up behind his back before sweeping his legs out from under him. Max landed in a heap on the grass and Paulie was right on top of him; one hand held his wrist in a vise grip and the other was threaded through his hair, pulling his head around so that Max had to look at him.

"So what do you think, you little shit?" Paulie asked. "Want me to find someone else to take you on? Looks like you're in the position for it."

"Fuck you!" Max snapped, gritting his teeth against the firm pull Paulie had on his hair. “Didn’t ask you here so fuck off, okay?”

"Why? So you can go kill yourself? If that's all you wanna do, then be my guest. Hell, I'll help you. Just make sure to let us know so that I don't get sent out to watch you parade mindlessly around the Quarter in front of every vampire who wants to help." Paulie shoved his knee in between Max's legs. "You sure you don't want me to find somebody? Maybe you just don't want to admit you liked it? I mean, you’re using the word ‘fuck’ rather liberally so it’s gotta be on your mind, right?”

Max started to thrash about when Paulie began talking about finding someone, trying to find a way to get the other man off him. Adam and Andy were known quantities but he had no idea who this Paulie guy truly was and his words created an animalistic sense of fear in Max. He started breathing fast and shallow as Paulie tightened his grip against Max’s struggles. This wasn’t going to happen again. This _couldn’t_ happen again.

He renewed his efforts and earned an elbow in the kidney for his trouble, making him gasp, and underlining how futile his current situation was at the moment. _Just get it over with._ "Man, do whatever the fuck you want. I don't care."

"Nope.” Paulie’s grip lessened slightly. “I think you do. Problem is you don't care a shit about yourself. Isn't that what Andy and Adam have been trying to tell you all this time? You don't look stupid, Max. Then again," Paulie continued, "we are here in this park still debating the purchase of illegal narcotics, are we not?"

Max wearily shut his eyes and let his body sag against the ground. "Why the hell did they send you anyway if all you're gonna do is beat the shit outta me?"

"Max, if I wanted to beat the shit out of you, we would not be talking right now," Paulie said moved back, pulling Max up to his knees before sitting down next to him with a firm yet painless grip on Max’s arm. "You know, Andy was right. You are tougher than that bloodsucking friend of yours," he said conversationally even as his eyes scanned the park around them. "That one...he didn't even try to fight back; no defense at all. Knew he'd fucked you, fucked up and generally was a piece of filth that didn't deserve to live. He’s the type that will just fold up and die. Popular name for ‘em is ‘victims’. You know, those folks who just let people dump shit on them, treat 'em like dirt and never do anything but look at you with those big sad eyes and say ‘help me’ so soft you practically fall over trying to get close enough to hear 'em."

"I'm assuming there'll be a point to all this," Max said tiredly. God, now somebody  _else_  wanted him to think.

"See, I figure pretty little Val must like that stuff, must like having two or three go at him at a time when he's held down. Maybe that's why he held you down, Max. You know, he likes it and you’re his friend so he must've figured you would enjoy it as well."

At that, Max started and Paulie's grip tightened just enough to remind Max of who would come out on top if they went another round. Max reluctantly subsided. "Val wouldn't have done that,” he muttered. “He knows I don't worship at his church."

“Maybe,” was Paulie’s answer. “I heard part of what Adam said. He’s got an amazing Talent but he’s a soft touch. I wouldn’t have fed Val after that but Adam did. Said we needed to give him time to think, to recover from being _traumatized_.” Paulie’s sneer left no doubt as to what he thought about Adam’s decision. "You know the problem with the victims, Max? They always want something from somebody and they never give anything back."

"If it wasn’t for Val, I wouldn't be here." At the absurdity of that statement, Max let go with a bitter laugh. "I mean, he's the first person in a long time who told me I was worth more than I thought I was, showed me he thought that. He got me to Atlanta, to MATADA and out of this damn place, y'know? Hell, he introduced me to his sister."

"He may have gotten you to Atlanta and introduced you to MATADA but ya ever think that you got out of the Mob on your own, that you met his sister on your own?” Paulie asked. “He may have opened the door, Max, but it was you that stepped through and made the decisions. Andy and Adam wouldn't have given your sorry ass the time of day if they didn't see something in you - although what it is right now, I couldn't tell ya. You wouldn't have even come to New Orleans if Jan didn't think there was a reason for it. You're a strong kid, Max. Don't let gratitude for the opportunity get mixed up with obligation."

"He's my friend." Max shook his head and turned to stare at the ground. "At least…I thought he was. Before.” He sighed and rubbed at his eyes with his free hand. "I hate thinking and I hate this. But what am I supposed to say?" he asked. "My best friend...raped me and I don't know if I want him as my friend anymore?"

"That would be one choice.” Paulie stood up smoothly and hauled Max up with him. “Certainly is an honest one. Truth is, Max, if he had done that to me, I don't know what I would do. I don't have your history with him and the _least_ I would probably do is beat the shit out of him. Hurt him back. It may be that the only thing you can do is hate him.” Paulie’s voice softened a little. "Chances are he'd understand." Still casually holding on to Max’s arm, Paulie turned him around and began steering both of them back towards the hotel.

"I don't want him to _understand_ ," Max said as something fierce and angry broke free inside of him. "I want him to _hurt_ ,” he hissed. “I want him to be helpless the way I was." He saw Paulie watching him, blue eyes expressionless, and quickly looked away. "Didn't mean that," he mumbled.

"Yeah, you did," Paulie contradicted. "Honesty's a bitch, ain't it? Look, kid, what you do with Val is your business. But you need to get your feelings sorted out before you get much farther not only because I will beat you into unconsciousness if you make me traipse after you again like this but because you're only hurting yourself."

"Old habits die hard," Max said sardonically.

"Well, kill this one. You've got a lot inside that might actually do others some good if you let it out every now and then.” He paused to wait for a light. “Don't think this is gonna go away. It'll always be a part of you just like your hand and that scar on your side but it'll get better - easier to deal with."

"Can I have that in writing?" Max asked as they neared the hotel.

Paulie snorted and released Max’s arm only to cuff him on the back of the head as they entered the lobby. "Just use that head of yours every now and then, huh?" They rode up the elevator in silence and Paulie parted ways with Max at the door to Adam's room. "You're gonna need to make a decision on this, Max. Whether you’re with us or not, we’re going back to Atlanta."


	19. Fade Into Me

_All I feel now is the weight of the day_

_I need you with me to push it away_

_When we disappear into each other_

_Our colors appear and fade into one_

_\- "Fade Into Me" (David Cook)_

 

 

Max opened the door to his room and sat down on his bed in the dark to think over what Adam and Paulie had said and finally admitted how angry and afraid he really was. As he did, he could feel the rage at being made helpless just under the surface. He’d spent so many years working up his armor until there was no need to rely on anything or anyone other than himself or what he could make his life into. Val had changed that so subtly that Max really hadn’t even been aware of it until now – until that sense of security, however false it may have been, was torn away. Max knew he could be angry and nobody would blame him in the least but was that all he wanted to be? Did he want to try and salvage what he and Val had forged or was it even a possibility? The only person who could help answer that was the one Max least wanted to talk to but Max knew he couldn't decide until he talked to Val. Getting up, he left his room and went over to knock on Adam's door.

" 'Scuse me," he said, poking his head inside. "I need to know where the home for wayward vampires is?"

Adam glanced up at him from where he sat beside Tevis, one leg propped up on a chair as he and the young Jamaican talked. "He needed some space. He went to the roof."

"The roof," Max sighed. "Perfect. Just perfect."

"Well it was the least likely place he would be bothered and still be within shouting distance, so to speak," Adam said evenly.

"I'm sure he also thinks it's the one place I'm not gonna go to find him," Max told him.

Adam glanced down, biting his lower lip briefly, before looking back up to regard Max steadily. "You ready for this?"

"No. But I need to do this," Max said. "I am not going to walk around in a world of hurt for the rest of my life. He and I need to have this out - whatever way it ends."

"You want me to send Paulie after him or would you rather go yourself?" Adam asked.

“I'll go," Max told him. "I'm sure the view is lovely this time of night." He shut the door before Adam could say anything further.

At least there wasn't a ladder this time; just normal stairs to an unassuming metal door. Max still had to pause and remind himself his feet were on solid ground when he opened the door and stepped out onto the flat rooftop. Val was on the back side of the roof, looking toward the river and the bayou where the lights were fewer and you could still see some traces of stars. He was dressed in shorts and a tank top and Max could see evidence of bruises and other injuries in the dim light thrown up by the rooftop lights that illuminated the hotel’s name. When he turned at the sound, Max saw a long healing gash across his cheek and Val’s eyes looked bruised.

They stared at each other for a long time, neither of them moving until Val finally crossed his arms over his chest and tilted his head back to look up at the night sky. "I'd undo it if I could, Max," Val said quietly. "Take it back. Make it never have happened."

"Well, it's a charming sentiment but somehow I just don't think it's gonna erase the rather vivid mental picture I have," Max answered harshly. He swallowed around the lump in his throat as he stepped completely out on to the roof and closed the door behind him. "Would you like me to share it with you?"

"I was there. I remember...so, no, not really," Val said softly.

"Tough shit,” Max barked out. "You didn't get to see it from my side so here's a little sneak preview." He walked slowly over to Val, as much to quell his own fear at being on the roof of the multi-story hotel as to try to keep his anger something within his control. "Let's see, first there was my friend trying to rip my throat out. When that didn't work, _he raped me_." Up close to Val now, Max grabbed him by the arm. Val’s head snapped down with the force of it and they were staring at each other again. "How's the show so far?"

Val opened his mouth to say something but all that came out was a mumbled, "I'm sorry". He looked away but didn’t pull his arm from Max’s grip.

"You're sorry. That's nice. Is that supposed to make it better? Is it supposed to--" Max's voice caught and he looked away, swallowing, before forcing himself to look back at Val and hissing out the next words. "Is it supposed to make up for the fact you held me down and rammed your dick up my ass so hard I thought I was gonna split in two? And that you tried to make me  _like_  it?"

"No. No! It doesn't make up for it." Val said harshly. He pulled his arm from Max’s grip and crossed them over his chest again. "Not for you and definitely not for me." He turned away, looking over the ledge at the river once more. "It doesn't matter that it was the Hunger, or that I didn't know it was you. You were just _food!_ " he spat out. "Then you were just an ass." He turned back to Max. "You could have been a fucking goat and I wouldn't have cared! Not then. Not until - until after." His voice dropped again. "Not until it was too late to do anything about it..."

"Don't you look away from me!" Max jerked Val up against him again. "Don't you wanna see your handiwork? Take a good long look, Valentine. You like what you see?"

Val's eyes ran over Max’s face, remembering exactly where the now mostly-healed cuts and bruises had been open and bloody, dark blue, purple and red; so very red. His fingers twitched to touch the damage he'd done but he kept still, letting Max's anger roll over and through him. "What I see is the same thing I saw last night," he said. He had waffled between grief and anger and fear most of the night until, for the first time in four years, he welcomed the dawn and its death. He’d prayed for it to be the last time but there were no prayers answered for the soulless. He’d woken at sunset with the echo of his prayer still lingering.

Max shoved Val away from him, walking away as the vampire sprawled onto the roof. His hands were shaking and it felt as if every nerve in his body was exposed and raw. "Great," he half-laughed as he spun back around. "So if it was a choice between me and a goat, I still might've won?" As he paced back and forth, the hotel lights illuminated and then obscured his features, not giving Val a clue as to what might be going on inside Max. He could hear Max's heart but didn't know if it was fear from being on the rooftop or his emotional state.

Max felt as if his skin was too small for his body. Anger coiled in the pit of his stomach, burning and raw. He balled his hands into fists and tried to breathe but it was like he’d forgotten how. There was no controlled in and out of oxygen, just short, shaky inhales and exhales that left his lungs somehow still feeling empty.

He wanted Val to say _something_ – anything that would indicate more than this passive “I’m sorry” bullshit which was just so many words. Val had said he was sorry in the midst of raping Max but he’d still done it. Sorry meant nothing. Sorry was _easy_. Well, fuck _that_. He wasn’t going to just fucking accept Val’s half-assed apology. Val had made him hurt. Maybe it was time to make Val hurt just as much.

He spun around and stalked back to Val, who was still sprawled on the ground. The vampire had half-risen to support his weight on his elbows but did nothing further as Max came near. "You little cock-sucking fag,” Max jeered. “Tell me. Did you used to think about doing this to me? All the time we used to joke about it were you figuring out how to make it happen?" Without warning, he pulled back and kicked Val in the stomach, following it with another one to his thigh as Val rolled over.

Letting the kick connect was hard, and it hurt, sending agony through Val’s half-healed ribs. He probably could have stopped Max but he let him connect, consciously and willingly taking the punishment for what it was: a need to hurt him as Max had been hurt. The only difference was what Max inflicted was so much less pain than Val had caused. He'd already sworn, if only to himself, that he'd never touch Max again. It was all he could offer. There could be no more melodramatic stunts, no reaching for the strength that Max's hand had offered. He had destroyed it all. He didn't deserve it and didn't want to even inadvertently lead Max into any sort of trust at all because Val knew he couldn’t be trusted. He just had to make Max understand it too.

"C'mon, Val," Max said. It sounded almost friendly. “What's the answer? Hoping I'd like it and come over to your side?"

Even as Max's foot came out again Val made his decision. He would shatter that trust between them by any means possible then put as much distance between him and Max as he could. He wouldn't even have to lie for the most part. "Yes," he taunted. "I thought about it...wondered what you would be like. Wanted it the other way around, though," Val spat out as he rose to his knees.

Max grabbed Val's tank top and twisted it in his fist, pulling the vampire upright and propelling him backwards, slamming him into the low retainer wall. "You...wanted to know...." he said, breathing heavily through clenched teeth, "What I'd be like? What it was _lik_ e, Valentine," Max sneered, "was being torn apart inside! I felt like I was going to die right there while someone I was stupid enough to call my best friend is getting his kicks because he knew how much it hurt!"

Val could see Max’s mouth work as if he was about to say something else but the other man looked away. Val could hear him swallow and then suck in a breath like it was scalding him.

"You  _liked_  hearing me scream. Made you feel good, didn't it, you little bastard." Doubling up his fist, he pulled back and punched as hard as he could into Val's unprotected midsection. As Val crumpled over Max's fist, he jerked it away, staring at it as though it was something that had acted of its own accord and not under his direction. "What? My letting you feed wasn't enough? You wanted to lick the blood outta my ass when you were done?" Max spun away, putting several paces distance as Val staggered to keep his balance. " _You're supposed to be my best friend!_ " he yelled, tilting his head back to howl the words at the night sky; anger, betrayal and pain all being vented into silent darkness.

This was the point, the button, he had left to push, Val realized desperately. If he could make Max angry enough, then maybe Max would understand – or at least walk away. The urge to cough was strong but he had a feeling he would be coughing up blood.

“Yes," he said, pulling himself upright and trying to put as much disdain into his words as he could. "What did you think, Max? Hunger or no hunger, I am still just as susceptible to a flirt as anyone and you’ve been teasing me since we met with your smart ass remarks. You were asking for it. I didn't want to play but there you were in my hands.” Val heard his voice tremble and steeled himself. He had to sound convincing. He had to sound like the soulless creature he told himself he was. “If I'd been thinking a little more clearly?” He shrugged. He hoped it looked nonchalant but it felt stiff and forced. “Maybe it wouldn't have hurt so bad. Only hurts the first time, though, Max. You only get to be a virgin once and there is something very nice about a piece of tight, virgin ass that I can't pass up. ‘Sides, if you were going to lose it, isn't it better to lose it to a friend?" He gave Max a cool gaze, raking the other man's body with his eyes from head to toe then settling on his crotch before raising his eyes to look at Max's face again.

Whatever had broken free inside Max during conversation with Paul suddenly flared back into life. “Fuck you,” Max said and then he couldn’t seem to stop. Adrenaline coursed through him like river rapids, making him nauseous. “Fuck you. Fuck _you._ ” He started towards Val and then stopped only inches away. “ _Fuck you!”_ he yelled in Val’s face. “You think you’re so motherfucking special? You think you’re the first to shove something up my ass? Guess again.” Striking out, he pushed Val back. The vampire stumbled but didn’t fall. “You’re not that damn special, Everett. The only fucking thing _different_ about you is I actually let myself believe you might be telling the truth. That we might—“ Max clamped his lips shut.

Val wanted to rip his tongue from his mouth. He didn’t realize that pushing the buttons he’d seen might bring up an older, deeper pain for Max. He tried to tell himself he hadn’t known – couldn’t have – but his guilt increased at the realization he’d dredged up memories for Max the other man would probably rather have kept buried for the rest of his life. He tried to mentally shift back into his armor. “Doesn’t change the fact you can only lose it once, Max, whether I was first or not.” Val smiled. His lips felt overstretched and plastic as he tried to project an uncaring attitude for his best friend’s anguish. This was the only card he had left to play.

"Only once, huh?" Max asked, his tone dead and his eyes flat much the same way as when he'd seen Charlie and Jimmy for the first time in eight years. The sight unnerved Val. He knew what he was trying to do but had no idea where Max was mentally or emotionally at this point. The outward show of anger was gone and what was left to fill the void was unknown.

"That’s lucky for me,” Max continued. “Maybe unlucky for you since I have yet to find out how many ways a vampire can die." He reached out more quickly than Val would have given him credit for and yanked the other man off his feet, nearly dragging him over to the edge of the roof. He grasped Val behind the neck and pushed until Val was bent over and staring at the street many stories below in a reversal of what Val had one done to him.

“Take a look," Max said almost kindly, conversationally. "Long way down, huh? I can tell you from personal experience that the worst part is you actually have time to think about what it's gonna feel like when you hit the ground. 'Course, if you don't die, maybe you'll just lose your brains all over the sidewalk and I can leave you for easy pickings when the sun comes up. What’cha say? I think it's time to take a walk on the wild side, Valentine. Mine, though. I've seen yours."

Finished talking for the moment, he grabbed Val by the waistband of his shorts and heaved, nearly throwing Val over the side and catching the vampire's wrists as Val started to slide. Val felt his body weight pulling him down until Max was bent at the waist and holding on to Val by his hands. "Kind of interesting that we keep ending up like this, don't you think?"

"Everything comes around, Max. My turn, I guess," Val said and closed his eyes. He thought a brief farewell to Tevis. Hopefully, his lover would understand the price Val had to pay for his mistake and would know it was a willing one.

Max jerked his head at the words. All he had to do was simply let go. Val would fall and Max could simply walk off the roof, down the stairs, and back out into the streets. Disappear. Break his mark and make it difficult for anyone to find him - if they really wanted to. All he had to do was kill the very person who'd given him his chance.

 _Everything comes around._ Now it was his turn and his choice.

He looked past Val again down at the street but all that was in front of his eyes were bits and pieces of his life, flickering in and out in no particular order: Val rescuing him from falling off the roof, being thrown from the tracks, meeting Tree for the first time, Val allowing Jan to tag him. As the images continued, he realized most of them involved Val in one way or another. Val was the constant. Max had leaned on him almost since their first meeting without ever really being cognizant of how much Val had insinuated himself into Max's life and how much of Max's new life was due to the vampire.

Down below he could see them: Rebecca, his father. They were all down there along with myriads of other souls all discarded by friend or foe; someone who'd made the decision that their pain, their comfort or their needs were worth more than the life they had taken. Max had never willingly, knowingly killed someone. Now he had the opportunity to do so and make Val join the wraithlike crowd below. All he had to do was let go. Just...open his hands. It would be breathtakingly easy.

Except he'd never killed anyone. Slowly and nearly unwillingly, he hauled Val's weight until he could grasp the vampire by the shoulders, then pulled him the rest of the way over, dumping him in a heap before turning and walking away. He'd never killed anyone.

And he still hadn't.

Val didn't move after Max released him.   _So close...so close...God, why didn't you **finish** it?_  But then he looked at Max. The long line of his friend’s back was tense and Val could see Max had wrapped his arms around himself, fingers digging into his upper arms as if trying to hold himself together. If Max had dropped him, what then? He would have left Max with the responsibility of his death as Val had been left with the responsibility of Marcus' death. Max had never killed anyone - not by intent, not on purpose or in anger or fear. How fair was it for to want to add that burden to Max when the other man had already had enough pain in his life?  _Such a coward you are,_  he berated himself. Val’s apology was so totally inadequate but it was all had. Nothing would help heal the wound he inflicted.

Max felt empty. The anger that had carried him up to this point had fallen away when he had seen what he was about to do to Val. It was still there, he knew, just waiting for him to make the choice and to cross that last final line he'd set for himself. No matter what else he scoffed at, 'thou shalt not kill' had been the one constant in his life after seeing it happen and nearly being killed himself. It wasn't something any of his bosses had understood and there had been pressure brought to bear on him before they'd finally sent him to New Orleans, hoping that maybe Vault would be able to get him to fall into line on that score.

Wearily, he slid down to the roof, shoes scraping against the rough surface as he lowered his head to rest it on his knee. His sweat was cooling under the slight breeze and caused an involuntary shiver. "So that's it, huh?" he said, not knowing if he was talking to Val or to himself. "There are no such things as friends. All of it is just somebody wanting something from you. You wanted something, Val, and you set your hooks." Max raised his head and propped it on his crossed arms, staring off into space. "Nice job."

He shifted to lean back against the low wall, one knee still drawn up and the other leg straightened out. "And you've helped me even more than you know. You just confirmed that those guys down there - Andy, Adam, Jan - they all want something from me as well; nobody does anything for free. Shoulda remembered that." He sniffed and then coughed. "Thanks for reminding me." Slowly, he stood up, brushing off his jeans. His limbs felt heavy, weighted down with this new knowledge. "Don't worry. I won't forget again. Hope y'all got what you wanted out of it."

"No!" Val snapped out in desperation. He’d wanted Max to leave, yes, but to just leave _him_. Now it looked like Max was preparing to leave altogether and it scared Val. "No, damn you! They didn't ask of you anything you didn't want to give. I took something, Max. _Stole_ it. Forced it from you. I didn’t ask but they have. You can't tell me that every step of the way they haven't asked you. I'm not like them and they aren't anything like me at all. Theresa isn't like them, either,” he frantically added. “She wants something from you but it isn't ugly or bad or even totally selfish."

He moved, coming to his knees. "And you wanted something from them. You wanted them to trust you, to like you. You wanted them to give you a chance. You still do!”

Almost unthinkingly, Val changed his strategy. He still needed to get Max to be afraid of him, still needed to make sure the other man was not in his reach so Val couldn’t ask anything of him ever again. But he needed to make sure Max stayed in Atlanta and got the life he deserved. “I betrayed you, not the other way around.” His voice turned harsh and raw. “God, why couldn't you have just stayed out of it like I asked you too?” he snarled. "You had to save me...be a hero, didn’t you? Well this is what you saved, Max! I tried to warn you, but no. You are so fucking convinced that I’m human. I'm not! I’m…I’m…I’m just like Charlie, Max.”

The comparison seemed so obvious that it was a wonder he hadn't thought of it before. "Charlie could have raped or even killed Tree and I kept you from killing him. It was a mistake. I should have helped you.” Val looked directly at Max but didn’t move into the other man’s field of vision. "I don't have to look at you to know what it feels like to be raped, Max,” Val said quietly. “All this time I've thought about the dangers of me losing control and killing you or my family. I can’t just be afraid of one thing, though. I have to be afraid of everything because anything can happen when I am like that and I won't be able to stop it like Charlie should have been stopped before he could hurt someone else."

"Everybody wants something," Max said and he sounded so tired to Val’s ears. "Charlie wanted my silence. If I wouldn't give it to him, he'd kill for it.” He'd finished brushing himself off but hadn't moved, still halfway between Val and the door to the stairwell.

What was Val saying? Val wasn't like Charlie - could never be. There'd be no way his dad would have come looking for him, no way Tree or his mother would have been so glad to see him when they'd come to Atlanta. Instead, it would have been the guarded greetings and the sidelong glances Max was used to seeing coupled with a willingness to leave both young men alone instead of dragging them into the bustle and noise of daily life with the Everett family.

He slowly stood up and half-turned to see Val. "I didn't come back here because I wanted to be a 'hero'," Max said, tossing the word back at Val. "I came because I thought there was someone I knew and trusted who needed my help. I don't know. Maybe some way I could give back some of what I’d been given.” He halted for a moment and licked his lips before his next words came out in an angry, hoarse whisper. “And as much as I'd like to give into the urge to beat you until you can't move, until no one can recognize your _face.._.” He clenched his fists. "I can't. You're still Val. You're not Charlie. Charlie wouldn't have given a shit about what happened but here we are and you're still telling me that I should believe all this shit about everyone downstairs in that hotel room. Why is that, Val?"

Val held his silence for several moments as his thoughts rushed ahead to answer.  _What can I tell you, Max? That I love you? I have such an interesting way of showing it. That I see in you all the things I always wanted to be, that I admire? That I had all the opportunities you never did and I blew it? That you have so much to offer other people it hurts to think about it. That I have fucked up so much in my life that I thought, maybe, just maybe, you might be something I could say I was glad I took the time?_

_That I wasn't kidding when I said if not for Tevis, I'd have lost my heart to you instead?_

_“_ Because it's true," Val said at last. "Because all you ever needed was a break. I didn't do anything but make you think, Max, and I couldn't have done that if you hadn't started before I met you. You want to beat me to a pulp, go ahead. I won't fight back. But don't you throw away what you’ve found because of what I did. No matter what you think, Max, my...raping you was not some kind of cosmic justice for past sins. It wasn’t anything beyond being my fault."

Max looked away and was silent for long enough that Val wondered if the other man was going to say anything at all or just leave. "You kept saying you were sorry," Max said finally. "Over and over. Did you mean it?”

Val had expected agreement with his statement and it took him a moment to stutter out an answer in keeping with his plan. "Does it matter?"

"It does matter," Max said. "If for nothing else than the fact it matters to me. Otherwise, everything we had is based on a lie. There's no in between on this one for me. Either you knew what you were doing but you couldn't stop it or you just decided it sounded good." Taking slow, precise steps, Max closed the distance between Val and him. He scuffed the ground with his boot before raising his eyes to look steadily at Val and prayed the answer to his next question wouldn't finish the job of tearing his heart in two. "Which is it, Val? No lies."

"It never sounded good," Val said on a whisper. "It never could be enough. I knew it was you at the end but I was...I can't explain it to you, Max. You've seen the Hunger. The other is nearly as strong and they’re tied together.” The anger and bitterness at the situation he and the Max had been placed in rose again. "I knew it was you at some point and I meant it when I said I was sorry. But I couldn't stop.”

"I didn't ask if you could've stopped. I asked if you meant what you said." He'd heard that anguished cry in the back of his mind all day, never more than a whisper but said with all the same urgency with which Val had sobbed out the words last night.

"Paulie and I had a talk tonight - if you can call what Paulie does talking," Max said, rubbing the back of his head ruefully. "He seems to think that the best choice might be ending this now before anything further happens. I thought about it and...I gotta admit it might be the way to go. He said I'd just taken what I wanted to see about you and ignored the rest. That," he sighed, "is probably somewhat true." It wrenched him to admit that Val could be everything Adam and others had warned him about. It meant that the Val he thought he knew was dead and Max still had no clear-cut idea of the Val that would take its place. Val had filled in some of the most important blanks, though. He still cared about Max if his insistence that Max had done nothing wrong and should not just abandon his new life was any indication. As far as Max was concerned, the scales on Val's humanity versus the Hunger were evenly balanced at the moment and it was time to see what would tip them one way or the other.

Val covered his face with his hands, digging the heels into his eyes to give himself a moment to think and to stop, if possible, the burning tears behind his eyes. Talking about this made him feel helpless and embarrassed by his lack of control. His sexuality had been a source of pride to him in his younger days but now it was a source of pride gone horribly, frighteningly wrong.

He uncovered his face and tried to return Max’s direct gaze. "Just...tell me what you want from me," he pleaded softly. “You want to make me hurt, go ahead. Find a fucking baseball bat if you want to and ask Adam or Tevis or someone to come up here and feed me and you can have Andy hold me down until I scream as loud and as long as you want."

"Shit! When are you going to get it through your thick head I'm not going to do that, you asshole!" Max snapped. "You don't get it. The stuff you did to my body is gonna heal. It's the rest...forget it. I can't do this anymore. I just...I can't." He sank down again to the ground, limbs folding loosely as he stared at the ground in front of him.

"I got so damn good at just being numb and then you had to be on that roof. Tell me that isn't a cosmic joke. And you know the rest of the story. I've seen you work, Val. You told me--" Max ducked his head and cleared his throat. "--told me you loved me. If that’s true, tell me, and we'll figure out the rest. Otherwise, I just have to decide that it was all a lie. And that neither of us have souls."

Val moved until he was in front of Max and then dropped to his knees with little of his usual grace. "Max, listen to me. For four years I have been denying what I was until I dragged you into this. I didn't want to let you fall from the roof but I didn't really expect to see you again. Then you turned up at that fight and you were hurt and I'd done it. So I had to try and make it right. That should have been it but you just…talked to me. You told me things like I was…I was a _man_ , not a vampire, and I felt human again. You reminded me what it’s like.”

“I love Tevis but were I not a vampire we would never have met.” Val took a not entirely metaphorical breath. “And I love you. I love you like a friend or a brother -- like a lot of things were circumstances different," he finished softly and had to look away for a moment. "It’s not a lie. It was never a lie,” he continued. “But I don’t know how to fix this. I don't know what to do. Max, please help me,” he pleaded, all earlier thoughts of divorcing himself from Max gone. “I don't know what to do to make it all right again for both of us."

Max nodded and rubbed the palms of his hands against his shins. The denim rasped softly against his skin. “I don’t, either,” he responded. “It won't be the same...can't be.” Each word felt like a nail being hammered into him. “But…I want to.” He shrugged, trying to figure out a way to put words to the unformed desire in his heart. “I want to…make it come together somehow so it’s…better.”

He wondered if Val had any idea how his words had lodged in Max’s soul. He hadn’t been kidding when he’d told Val how good he’d gotten at being emotionally numb. He hadn’t expected anything from their first meeting beyond relief he’d met another vampire and come out unscathed but Val was right. They’d run into each other again and again and somehow traded bits and pieces of themselves until it had become difficult at least for Max to know where he ended and Val began.

If he had to put a name to it, then yes, he did love Val much the same way Val loved him. What all that entailed Max didn’t really know but he knew he could make it his choice; he could help define what those terms meant to him and maybe to Val as well. It might give them both something to hold onto when the memories rose up again. Max was pretty sure, though, that he would have to make the first move.

"I've told you before, Everett, you have a soul. I'm just holding onto part of it. What happened didn't take that away; I've still got it." Max put out his right hand between them, looking at it for a moment before placing it gently against Val's jawline, ignoring the slight jump from the startled vampire before dropping his hand back down to his side.

Val had been so firm in his decision to not touch Max that it surprised him when Max reached through the invisible barrier Val had constructed and touched him. A small flare of hope rose within him and he viciously quashed it only to have it re-emerge and grow brighter when Max didn’t move away.

“Trust me?” Max asked. It was instinct, an idea born of equal parts desperation and desire and a need to leave this place with something other than what they’d brought to it. Max rose and motioned for Val to follow him. As they walked towards the edge of the roof, Max steeled himself and dropped to his knees to look over the retaining wall. His hands locked on the edges and he shut his eyes until the vertigo passed enough for him to spot the fire escape zig-zagging down the side of the hotel.

"What are you doing, Batman?” Val crouched down next to Max. “You don't fly, remember?" Regardless of his vow to himself, if Max tried to launch himself over the side, Val would grab him. He set one hand close to Max’s, fingers almost touching.

"Not planning on it."  Max rose up enough to sling one leg over the side. He closed his eyes and took a breath, letting it out explosively when his foot touched the iron step that signaled the start of the fire escape. “Follow me,” he said and swung the other leg over. It took a few moments of mental persuasion to convince his hands they had to let go of the roof to grab the rungs of the fire escape but he finally managed it. Slowly, steadily, he started making his way down.

Max looked up. "Come on down here." He saw Val's hesitation. "Trust me, Okay? Just this far."

Without hesitation, Val swung himself over and followed Max down the first set of steps. “Now what?”

Max was going along the small iron catwalk, testing windows to see if one had been left unlatched. There was one where the latch was a bit loose but he couldn't move it any farther on his own. "Think you can get this open?" he asked.

Val was still mystified as to exactly what Max was doing but he leaned in and pushed slightly, using his greater strength to pop the latch and push the window up. Max pushed him inside and tumbled in after. Getting up, he closed the window behind them. His lungs unlocked and he took his first deep breath now that he was back safe on solid ground.

"I don't suppose you would mind telling me what exactly is going on?" Val asked. He waited while Max looked around the room. His vampiric night vision gave him extra benefits in a dark room lit only by streetlights outside but he could see Max blinking as his eyes adjusted.

Max's gaze darted around the room. He knew no one was there and, in the dark, it seemed easy to do what he had been thinking. He licked his lips nervously. "I wanted to do this," he finally said. He leaned in slightly and kissed Val. It was light at first, a bare brushing of mouths. But when Val didn’t move away, Max repeated the gesture. When Val’s mouth opened in surprise, Max gently traced the outline of the other man’s lips with his tongue before drawing back.

Val could only stare at him with mouth open as the taste of Max lingered on his lips. He’d expected to be cast off, cut adrift. If Max wouldn’t do it, Val would rip himself free. But he’d never expected this. "What are you doing?" he whispered when his head finished spinning.

Max shoved his hands in his back pockets and glanced down and away. “What I said. I want something…better than what happened,” he said quietly, as if this was a hushed conversation only the two of them should hear. “I don’t want us to be afraid of each other,” he said and glanced up at Val. He took his hands out of his back pockets and shoved them into his front pockets. “I want…need…” He sighed. “Hell, maybe both.” Taking a breath, Max tried again. “I want to know what this is like without the Hunger. Just me and you.”

He bit his lip, suddenly aware Val might not be on board with this idea. “Do you want me to stop? Your call.”

Reject Max now because he wanted him? Casual sex wasn't a problem for Val but this was not casual by any stretch of the imagination. Max wasn’t in love with him either but Max did love him. Val knew that. “No," he said but he wasn't sure if he were answering Max's question or protesting. Betraying Tevis didn't even cross his mind; as long as Val came back to him was their agreement.

They had never discussed what would happen if Val came back to Tevis with a broken heart.

Max looked so resolute to Val. But his friend also looked hopeful if not a little nervous and a lot scared. Max knew loving was different. He had to, didn't he? The weight of that question nearly brought Val to his knees along with the magnitude of what Max was seeking and offering.

He raised his hand to Max's face very slowly and let his fingers graze the strong jaw and feeling the muscle twitch underneath. "No," he said more softly. Max was taller than Val and he had to tilt his head up, moving his fingers to lightly touch Max's lips before replacing them with his own mouth. Max was not a trick, not a john, not even a lover and still Val put all he could – love, fear, apology, thanks – into the gentle meeting of mouths, hoping Max would somehow get the message. The other man didn’t seem to be entirely comfortable but he didn't resist either and Val gave him the lead, letting his tongue sweep along the interior of Max's mouth to taste, teasing Max's tongue with his own until he could coax Max into enjoining the kiss more actively. His finger touched the thick dark hair, held it without pulling and gave in as Max became bolder, let him be demanding, even harsh, if it was what Max needed.

They had to break apart so Max could breathe but Val did not stop, mouth closing over the round of Max's chin and along his jaw, tongue tasting the rough texture of beard stubble and sweat and the sharper salt taste of dried tears. But he made no other move. Max would have to set the pace lest Val's own need drove them too fast and scared the other man. He did move fractionally closer, though, to let the warmth of Max's body seep into his own cool skin and could feel slight tremors shaking Max’s frame.

Max hadn't really known what to expect beyond the attempt to articulate his thoughts, his need to Val. If Val had told him to go no further, he would have complied. Instead, Val had accepted what had been offered and it was up to him to continue. He knew this wasn’t so he could do this and walk away satisfied he was still heterosexual. He also knew that it didn’t change how he felt about Tree. This wasn’t about gender. It was about both of them hopefully being able to temper something horrific into something else by stripping away every false pretense or façade they had consciously or unconsciously showed each other; to be emotionally, nakedly honest with someone they loved.

He tilted his head back as Val's mouth traced along the path of his beard stubble down his throat, shivering slightly in reaction to Val's caress. Max felt Val's lips slide along the hollow of his throat and he brought his hands up, skimming them lightly along the vampire's bare arms before drawing them up along his shoulders and cupping them behind Val's head in order to tilt the other man's head back to find his lips again. His arms went around Val, hands tracing the lines of his shoulder blades and then down to rest on the small of his back, thumbs hooked inside the waistband of Val's shorts before one hand came back up to lace his fingers through Val's dark curls.

Max ended one kiss and began another. His fingers loosened from Val's curls to trace the smooth, cool skin of his face. He bent and moved lower, tracing the line of Val's neck and shoulder with his lips and tongue, pausing momentarily at the beginning of a weal that extended over Val's shoulder.

Both hands came to rest on Val's hips and then moved underneath the tank top so that Max's hands were resting just below Val's rib cage; his skin felt like marble, cool and smooth - until Max's thumb ran across the beginning of another half-healed wound. Val thought he heard him sigh and then Max's lips touched his again before he drew back slightly. "I'm sorry my working for Vault got you into this."

"Not your fault," Val murmured. "They'll heal, too," he promised and moved his hands to Max's back, palms flat against his shoulders as he began a slow rubbing, gentle and light, along the muscles under Max's shoulders and lower back. He pulled back a bit and gazed into Max's face. "What do you want?" he asked seriously, needing some kind of indication. With anyone else Val would have been stripped and on the bed by now but he would know what they wanted. He wasn't entirely sure he knew what Max wanted or if Max did.

Max tried not to flinch as Val's hand passed over his scar. What did he want? That was a good question. Things going back to the way they used to be was definitely out and he didn't particularly care for that option anyway as it would mean losing some of the lessons he'd recently learned. They'd been painful but he understood how valuable they were as well. He let his hands move slowly up and down Val's sides and their foreheads touch as he thought about his answer. "I want to understand what you find in this. I want...to make love with you."

"I know that," Val said. "But not why." He pulled away but caught Max's hands and pulled him to the bed to sit next to him. Val tucked one leg underneath the other while still holding Max’s hands. "You're not queer, Max. As far as I know you aren't bi either. No more lies. No more misunderstandings," His voice was quiet and calm and he met Max’s eyes squarely before reaching past him to turn on the lamp next to the bed. He watched his friend while Max blinked and looked away from the sudden burst of light. Max looked pale and tired, unkempt and shaken and beautiful to Val. All the rugged masculine traits he admired in other men right there in front of him. But the exterior was a mask for something far more fragile. He had come close to breaking it more than once and only barely understood the strength that had kept Max going for so long through so much. But if Max was going to face Val without his masks, then Val needed to do the same. He reached down and pulled his shirt off, letting it fall to the floor, then got up and let the shorts fall as well to stand naked before Max.

He knew he looked a wreck at the moment although nothing really hurt that much. He had seen Max after Jan and Evan had worked on him for a while to relieve the worst of the injuries. He knew how bad it had been because he had asked just how much damage he had done to his friend inside and out. He sat back down, letting his maleness be as obvious as he could before reaching for Max's hand again and laying it on his breast. "If you want something to replace the memory of what happened, then you want me to fuck you," Val said, not softening the terms. "If you want to know what I am, what I find attractive or want from other men, then you have to fuck me. The only difference between what happened last night and what could happen now is how we get there...and that I am saying yes. I don't think you've changed your religion, and I'm not tossing Tevis for you. But,” he said insistently, “you need to know, Max, were it not for Tevis, I would and could want you for a very long time. I will even if we do nothing. Now do you understand? We stopped being friends when you kissed me in Atlanta. I want you to marry my sister. I want Theresa to be loved by someone like you. Someone....I could love. So now you know why I am saying yes to any of this."

Max felt tired and wanted nothing more to just curl up and stop asking the questions and receiving not only answers but other questions in return, to close his eyes, mind and heart until a blanket of darkness like the one Jan had induced came over him and he could choose if he wanted to reawaken. His instincts told him, however, that he'd already pushed himself beyond that point and that trying to go back was simply a form of escape much like the drugs he'd nearly bought earlier. He wanted more than that. He deserved more than that.

He looked at Val carefully, making sure the vampire saw that Max had noted the total nudity, the deliberateness with which Val had confronted the other man. The first time he had met Val, Max's mind had unconsciously likened him to the statues of Greek Gods or Michaelangelo's David that had been in his history texts at school. Now, even marked by the Brujah Primogen's cruelty, that beauty was even more evident in the contrast of the pale skin against the bruises as well as the dark eyes and the longish, curling hair. Max considered his next words carefully and then began to answer Val.

"Val, if I just wanted to fuck somebody to find out what it was like, you know as well as I do that there's a lot of guys out walking the Quarter right now that would be happy to oblige me. It's not just that. Part of it is the desire to replace what happened last night..." Max closed his eyes and forced the memory back again as it rose up but opened them to look at Val as he continued to try and put his thoughts into words. "And I know what that involves. But I think both of us need to replace that with something else and I would rather do that with the person who...loves me so much he was willing to let me go if he had to. Because I know how you feel about me. And, right now," Max finished, slowly removing his hand from Val's chest and loosely threading his fingers through Val's, "I want to be able to show you how I feel about you. It's not a change in religions, it's more a....desire to share communion."

Val measured the truth of Max's words against his own desire and could find nothing wanting. He did want to banish the bad memories for Max if he could and his own as well. He wanted to be able to express to Max what he felt the best way he knew how even if it were only once. And for the first time he did realize he would be betraying Tevis even though he knew Tevis would forgive him. He said nothing, only nodded to let Max know he believed his answer, agreed with him. He didn’t speak not because there were no words but because his throat had closed up.

Any turning back at this point would have to be Max's but Val was acutely sensitive to any protest that might come from Max's mouth or body. He lifted their joined hands, turning Max's arm slightly to kiss the inside of his wrist then moved his head toward Max's, tilting it slightly to kiss him slowly while his free hand trailed along Max's chest in a soft caress through the T-shirt. He heard Max's heart speed up a bit and loosed his fingers from Max’s, guiding Max’s hand to rest on his thigh and caught the other man's hair again to hold him in place and deepen the kiss.

Max let Val lead and, when the kiss ended, drew back for a moment to look at Val. The dark eyes were half-closed but alert, watching him. A small half-smile played on Max's lips, visible only for a moment until he bent his head back to Val in a kiss more demanding than gentle before he pushed Val back against the headboard and moved down his body. He stopped at the darker, pebbled surface of Val's nipples, kissing each one before biting them gently.

The feel of Max's teeth closing gently over his nipple sent Val in a small arch upward, biting his lip at the exquisite edge of pain and pleasure. He moved his hands into Max's hair, holding him gently, encouraging his attentions. Wanting more, though, his hands slipped along Max’s upper back, feeling the heat of Max’s skin through the cotton of his T-shirt. He shifted lower and Max followed. When he did, Val was able to pull Max's T-shirt from the back of his jeans. The skin was just as hot and smooth as he imagined. Firm muscles sand the hard ridges of Max’s spine slipped under his fingertips. He tugged and Max sat back on his calves, helping Val pull the T-shirt off.

Fuck, Max was beautiful, although he knew Max would never think so, not with the scar that so marred the olive skin. Val traced a finger along the edge of it, watching Max's face and seeing a trace of discomfort but deciding it had more to do with Max’s feelings about the injury than his being touched by Val. His other hand rested on Max's waist, thumb rubbing the exposed skin above the waistband of his jeans. "You would have to be so fucking good looking," Val murmured, smiling a bit more at the half-embarrassed look on Max's face. "Have a body I could never have if I worked out every day," he said. It was true. They were of the same size generally with Max the taller of the two but Val was as slim and slender, muscular definition not so obvious as it was on Max, who showed that he used his strength regularly when he worked. He was no bodybuilder but the muscles were clean, hard, even when he wasn't flexing them. Val moved his hand down Max’s chest and stroked his abdomen, the small dark hairs that disappeared under his jeans. Still watching Max's face, he went lower, touching the fly of Max’s jeans and then closing his hand over the visible evidence of Max’s beginning arousal.

When he did, Max breathed in sharply. His eyes closed and Val stopped, unsure if that was a sign to quit. When he opened them, he saw Val worriedly looking at him. “It’s fine,” he reassured shakily as the aftereffects of Val’s caress still thrummed through him. “Just…felt really good.” While what they were doing wasn’t any different in form or function than what he’d done with other sexual partners, it still seemed new with Val; different in a way Max hadn’t thought of when he’d voiced his initial request and he thought he might understand better than Val thought about Val’s statement of his feelings about Max if he hadn’t met Tevis first.

He moved until they were both lying on the bed, arms around each other, one of Max’s denim-clad thighs insinuated in between Val’s legs. He drew his hand slowly down the side of Val’s face and down his chest. He again teased Val's nipples to erect points before gently tugging on them with his teeth. The sharp intake of breath and the sounds Val made sent an answering shock straight to Max’s groin and he began to gently rock his hips against Val, pressing in for just a moment of contact to try and prolong that feeling.

He stroked along Val's stomach for a moment, then kissed the same area, stopping just below the vampire's navel before continuing to map Val’s body with his hands. He stroked down the outside of Val’s thighs and returning feather light up the inside, coming close enough to the hardening penis to tease but not enough to satisfy if Val’s verbal attempts to direct Max were any indication.

Val tried to remember his promise to himself to not push Max any farther than the other man indicated he wanted to go but they were already beyond what he’d thought Max might want or be able to do – and it was turning out that Max was an excellent tease whether he was aware of it or not. “Touch me. Please,” he whispered.

Max looked up at Val, holding his gaze, as he wrapped his hand around the other man’s penis. When Val’s hips arched off the bed, Max started to stroke the hard, warm flesh, trying to use what he liked and Val’s responses to figure out what felt good to Val. The first few strokes were tentative but as Val continued to respond appreciatively, Max became bolder, stroking harder and faster until Val’s hand reached down and covered his.

"Did I forget to tell you that I get aroused very fast?" he asked Max. It wasn’t even an entirely rhetorical question. Val needed a moment to take a metaphorical breath and calm his body’s reactions or this was going to be over a lot quicker than he wanted.

He pulled himself up to a sitting position and used his strength to pull Max up to kiss him again. Gone was the careful handling Val had sworn to use as he claimed Max’s mouth, deepening and lengthening the kiss when Max responded without hesitation.   He pulled back and reached for Max’s belt. “Unless you want to be a spectator rather than a participant, I suggest you get these off," Val said, hand resting on the buckle but making no further move.

Max kicked off his shoes, using the heel of each foot on the other and hearing them drop to the floor. He looked at Val who was still waiting for Max's answer. "Then I suggest you help," he said softly and laid back. After a moment, Val leaned over and undid the buckle, then pulled the leather free, his hands on the button fly as he looked at Max questioningly.

Max could feel himself tense and it felt like he couldn’t draw a deep enough breath. There was still some fear at being this consciously vulnerable but he nodded to Val to continue anyway. Val's sure hands undid each button slowly and Max concentrated on breathing, feeling that fear mutate into something more anticipatory as Val’s hands slowly pushed his jeans down. He automatically lifted his hips and Val pulled the denim the rest of the way off Max's legs and he was bared to Val’s gaze.

Val said nothing for a minute as he tried to gain control over his emotions. He’d thought cutting the ties between Max and himself would save them both but his friend – lover – had offered up something completely opposite in an attempt to achieve the same result and Val promised himself that he would be worthy of that trust no matter what it cost him.

A sound drew his attention and he could see Max lying on the bed with one eyebrow raised and a slight flush to his face. “Is there some kind of inventory process involved in this?” he asked. “Make sure I’ve got two arms, two legs and one dick? ‘Cause, seriously, I’m starting to get a complex here.”

Val laughed at the comment. Max’s sarcasm reassured him in a bone-deep way he didn’t even think about, just responded to. “No reason to,” he said and stretched himself out over Max, reveling in the feel of the hard, warm body beneath him and how Max’s erection pressed firmly against his thigh. No talking – no need to, really, as hands and mouths said all that needed to be said. Slow and careful began to give way to need and desire. Max’s arms came around him and Val welcomed the safety of it as he pressed against Max, letting the other man feel the evidence of his own arousal and both gratified and turned on by the obvious evidence of Max’s. He groaned against Max’s skin when the other man’s hands firmly grasped his ass and held him, rubbing their groins together, Max’s breathing harsh in his ears as he gasped in a breath and captured Val’s mouth in a bruising kiss.

Max was hungry for touch, for skin, for taste. Val’s body covered his and made him nearly dizzy with need. His cock, trapped in the hollow of Val’s hip, was hard and all he knew was that he _wanted_ , wanted whatever was coming next, wanted Val to kiss him, to touch him, to be part of him. “What happens now?” he asked when Val gave him a moment to breathe. He grinned as Val choked off a sound when Max lifted his hips and rubbed his erection against Val’s.

“This,” Val said. He slipped down Max’s body, grasping Max’s hard cock and stroking it, watching while the other man closed his eyes and tilted his head back. He heard a soft groan and felt Max move beneath him, pushing himself into Val’s hand. He shifted a little more and ducked his head. One last look at Max lost to the sensations Val was producing and he bent over, taking Max’s cock in his mouth.

“Fuck!” Moist heat engulfed him and Max could only helplessly follow his body’s demand for more. He raised his hips in a mute plea for Val to continue as need coiled tightly within him and sought its release. Unknowingly, one of his hands wrapped in Val’s hair to hold his lover there as he started to move, trying to find the right balance of friction and suction to bring about his orgasm.

Max's earlier epithet of Val being a cock-sucking fag had not been nearly as painful as he thought Max had intended. Enough in intent but not in the words, because Val did enjoy the action if not the title. Max filled his mouth very nicely without being either too thick or too long to be uncomfortable. He was sweet, salty tangy flesh, hot and slick where Val's fingers curled around the base of his cock, stroking upward as he relaxed his jaw to take as much of Max into himself as he could. He could already taste the sharply bitter taste of pre-cum, felt Max's balls tighten and his friend shudder in reaction. When he did, Val eased off. He didn't want Max to come just yet or even be that close. Reluctantly, he pulled back, licking the warm tight flesh with his tongue and sucking lightly on the head for a moment before kissing it, then stroked the small depression right below the base of Max's cock to still the coming rush.

Max could hear himself breathing heavily as Val rose and came to lay beside Max again. He let himself drift on the ebb and flow of the slowly receding near-orgasm for a few minutes until it became an exquisite ache versus the demanding need Val had created.

Max unwillingly opened his eyes. "Damn. I'm afraid I'm gonna pale by comparison here."

"I don't think so," Val chuckled before switching his gaze to the bed. "But only if you want..." he trailed off.

Max reached out to touch Val’s face and waited until the other man was looking at him. “I want,” he said simply.

Pushing Val down, Max spent a few minutes reacquainting himself with the lines and planes of Val's body before sliding down and letting his still erect shaft trail along Val's belly and then past Val's own erection. "But I _don't_ even wanna hear if I'm lousy at this," he cautioned. Bending his head, he lowered his mouth onto the cool flesh.

He could feel the hardness underneath his tongue but also could feel how the flesh itself yielded to his touch or taste. It felt good. It felt…right. Max's hand encircled the base of Val's cock and began to set a tempo, beginning his strokes slowly and then increasing the pace as he worked his tongue around the pliant flesh and running his tongue up the underside where the vein made its indentation. Anytime Val shifted in response, an answering shock ran through Max as well. Taking as much of Val as he could, he began running his teeth lightly up and down the shaft while moving his hand away, moving his thumb along the cleft in Val's ass.

Seeing Max's mouth and hand covering his cock had to be the most erotic sight Val could remember in recent history, Max's lips were slightly swollen, moist, and his dark hair brushed Val’s stomach as he took Val in deep. But if he had only this night, he wanted what he wanted, which was to have Max fuck him blind if he could coax the other man into it.

“Stop,” he breathed. When Max looked up, Val drew Max up to him, moaning softly as their cocks brushed and felt an answering shudder in Max's body. Mercilessly, he pulled Max's mouth to his, tongue plunging into Max's mouth as he pulled the other man hard against him, spreading his thighs so Max was cradled against his groin. He thrust his hips against the weight and heat of his lover and felt Max do the same in response. He released Max's mouth and met the slightly glassy green eyes. "You asked me what I want..." he breathed, threading his fingers through Max's thick hair and kissing his jaw again, nipping lightly. "I want you to fuck me. Through the mattress at least. Through to the next floor if you can manage it," he whispered, almost panting from the need to feel Max inside him.

Max nodded, barely able to speak himself. “How?” he managed to ask.

Val flailed an arm out and managed to touch the lotion bottle with the tips of his fingers. Max looked down to see what Val was doing and grabbed it up. “Lube,” Val said shortly has he took it from Max. A small amount in his hand and he reached between them to stroke Max’s cock and cover it with the slippery substance. He and Max were moving with each other, without thought, blindly seeking stimulation and losing themselves to the growing need between them.

Max thrust into Val’s hand even as he gripped the sheets tightly in his fists to try and maintain some semblance of control, hold back the tide. "Val," he rasped out finally. "Stop or it's over right now." He pushed Val back flat against the bed again and quickly followed, covering Val's body with his own.

He wasn't sure what to do next but felt Val draw up his knees towards his shoulders and then touch the tip of Max's cock, guiding him towards the tight opening in Val's ass. As he pressed there was resistance and he nearly backed off. "Don't," Val breathed. Swallowing, Max pressed in again, the muscles gave way and he was inside Val's ass.

"Fuck, yes," Val hissed, flinging his head back as Max pushed inside him. He let one leg slide down to rest against Max’s back, gasping as he felt Max move, the other man's cock swelling within him from the compression of the tight channel.

It was tight. So tight. Instinct took over and Max began thrusting back and forth, each time causing him to shudder in response as the tight channel enveloped his cock, sliding along the sensitive skin. As the motion became pleasurable to the point of exquisite pain, he began to thrust deeper, harder.

Val could not help but arch into the thrusts Max made, angling his hips, crying out when Max's cock hit his prostate. His cry startled Max but Val reached up and touched his lips, "Yes," he said again. "Harder!”

He gripped his own cock as Max continued to drive into him, his other hand clutching at the bedspread, but he couldn't concentrate enough to bring about his own orgasm. Max's face was almost slack with pleasure and Val tightened his buttocks and heard Max moan as the tight muscles closed around him. He caught Max's face in his hands and kissed him, sucking on his tongue, body rising and falling in time with Max’s thrusts until he felt Max go rigid and his thrusts became short and sharp.

Max pulled almost all the way out and then thrust back in again, crying out as the tight channel enveloped him over and over and his hips slammed against Val's ass. His release rushed through him, leaving him gasping in its wake. Coming one last time, he pumped as hard as he could before he collapsed into Val's arms, murmuring his partner's name as he softened and slipped free.

Clinging tightly to Max, Val bit his lip as Max's weight pressed against his erection. He rocked slightly, but the friction wasn't enough. He was unwilling to let go of Max, though, and bent his head to kiss the dark, sweat-dampened hair. His knees were raised and apart and he stretched a bit, trying to ease the tightness there even as he rubbed Max's back, a small smile on his lips. If he could envy his little sister anything it would be this. Despite the urgency of his passion, Max had not been brutal or thoughtless; inexperienced with men but damn! The feel of Max – _his_ Max – inside him had been as incredible as Val had fantasized about. The fact Val was still hard was secondary. It had happened before, not his favorite thing but not unfamiliar and the ache was becoming manageable even as he came off the prolonged feeling of pleasure of having Max sheathed deep within him.

"You could turn pro," Val teased softly, threading his fingers through the thick hair. "Quite the lover you are, Batman," he said affectionately and closed his eyes. He tried to will his erection to ease off. He preferred to have Max in his arms, the warm weight of him easing aches and bruises Val had forgotten he had. There was no loneliness then -- no coldness, just being taken was enough to make Val feel alive and aware of life without thinking how small or insignificant he might be. Max moved and Val bit back a moan and tried to control a shudder as his cock was stimulated lightly.

Laying there, Max let himself drift, picking up random thoughts as they filtered in and out of his head. He now could see how Val would have wanted it to be if the two of them had met in another time or another place. He felt safe here with Val - not a feeling he'd expected to have again when he woke up this morning. Thinking back, Max realized his doubts and fears had begun to fade the moment Val had told him yes. He loved Val; he couldn't love him in the way Val had talked about even if Tevis and Tree were not in the picture, but he had wanted to show his friend how much he did love him and that he understood Val would have his own demons to deal with as well. Maybe they'd managed to lay some of them to rest tonight.

Max shifted and his thigh grazed over Val’s erection. He lifted his head to look at Val. "Val?" Max asked, trailing his hand down the other man's stomach to lightly rest on his erection. "Your turn."

"There are other ways, Max," Val said breathlessly even as his hips moved and he pressed his cock into Max's grip. "Are you sure about this?"

Max's hand began stroking along the hard length. “Yeah,” he said softly after a moment.

Val could see that Max was tensing up again but knew that no matter of talking about it was going to make this any easier or get Max to admit that he just might have some reservations at this point. Still, to stop now would possibly tell his friend that Val didn't think he could honor that trust and bring up the specter of the monster who was still lurking in the shadows of this encounter. Nodding once, he gently pushed Max onto his back and reached over to grab the bottle of lotion down between his own legs and squeezed some into his hand, coating his fingers before carefully placing his hand on Max's ass. He was unsure how to broach the subject to Max and finally decided to go for broke. “I, uh, it’ll…help if I, um, prep you a little first,” he said and winced at how lame he sounded. _Good one_ , he congratulated himself. _Make him think about it even more, why don’t you?_

“Feeling a little like a rotisserie chicken here, but go ahead.” The retort popped out before Max even had a chance to think about it. _Let’s hear it for defense mechanisms._

Val grasped on to the familiar sarcasm, shaky as it was, like a lifeline. Both of them were trying so hard for something approaching normal in the middle of something neither of them had ever expected.  “Little unsexy?” he asked, trying for the same tone as Max had. He could feel his lips stretch into a small smile when Max held up one hand with the thumb and forefinger slightly apart. “Okay, then,” he responded, trying for the same tone, the same comfortable verbal give and take that had started their relationship. “Have to see what I can do about that.”

He grasped Max’s knees to shift his legs a little wider and then reached in between them to slowly slide a finger inside Max. He held still and waited for Max to adjust to the feeling. “How…how does that feel?” he asked as he ran his other hand almost obsessively up and down Max’s thigh.

The flush on Max’s face was not entirely due to arousal but the dry tones again reassured Val in more ways than one. “Like your finger is up my ass.” Val laughed and shifted. As he did, his hand moved and he caught his breath as Max suddenly arched underneath him, gasping in a breath, rib cage thrown into sharp relief and head thrown back.

Max hadn’t expected anything, really. Truth be told, he hadn’t known what to expect and, honestly, he’d felt a little silly lying on his back with his legs spread and Val’s finger in him. But then Val had moved his hand and _something_ had happened.

He licked dry lips and sucked in a breath as the electric shock that had started deep within him and raced through his body began to recede. His limbs felt heavy and weighted. His body felt sated while, at the same time, he wanted more of that sensation. Max opened his eyes to see Val watching him. “I, uh, I think I’m starting to get the appeal,” he said.

Val’s smile was immediate. He leaned in slightly and kissed Max’s raised knee. “It gets better,” he murmured.

He moved slowly and gently. When Max started to rock with the motion of his hand, raising his hips slightly and then pressing down against Val’s hand, Val squeezed more lotion onto his hand and pressed two fingers inside the ring of muscle and heard Max hiss slightly and felt him stop moving. He made no move push the penetration any further until Max had relaxed again then continued his slow and gentle exploration, feeling until he heard Max gasp as his fingers brushed over Max’s prostate again.

“I’ve got you,” Val said softly and reached over to loose Max’s hand from where it was tangled in the bed sheet. He laced Max’s fingers in his free hand. “Just let it happen,” he encouraged when Max’s fingers clutched his.

He moved until he was kneeling in between Max’s legs. Val grabbed the lotion with shaking hands and stroked it over his cock. He moved up against Max’s body and slowly started pressing inside. “Breathe,” he said quietly. “Just breathe.” It sounded like good advice so he followed it himself, gripping Max’s knees to hide his own shaking hands.

He moved slowly, cautiously, aware of every small wince or expression that crossed Max’s face in the dim room light. "This is how it should be, sugar," he said when he was fully sheathed and stifled a moan as Max shifted beneath him. "Easy, lover," he warned. "Just get used to it. You okay?" Val's query was sincere but Max could hear the tremor in his voice. Recalling how he had been unable to deny the need to move when he was inside Val, he could only wonder at the control Val was showing.

"Go on, then," Max urged shakily.

Val pressed deeper. There was a different sensation and Max found himself trying to follow Val’s motion, unsure of what to do. The fullness was not painful but it wasn’t entirely comfortable, either. Val rocked his hips back slightly and the action stirred eddies of his previous response and Max chased after it, instinctively moving to the slow rhythm Val was setting.

"Val…” Max breathed as he caught the motion and unsteadily returned Val's smile. Val was right. Odd as it felt, it still felt good and he shifted again as he felt Val within him again. The friction warmed Max and sent a tingle to his groin, stirring a response in him every time the hard flesh slid over his prostate. He grabbed his own cock and began to stroke it, hoping to increase the sensation.

Val leaned in and kissed Max, who met it hungrily. The uninhibited response, coupled with the sight of Max stroking himself, eyes closed and apparently lost to the moment, was enough to bring about the beginning of Val’s orgasm. He could feel the strain in his thighs as he began to push harder, faster, in response to his body’s demands.

He shifted and thrust again. Max’s body arching beneath him and his lover’s groan of pleasure was apparently the signal his body needed. The deeper thrusts became shallow and quick as Val emptied himself into Max. Done, he shifted his weight back, gently pushing Max’s legs down to stretch out beside him. Ignoring the stickiness between his thighs, he pulled Max close to him for another kiss, this one gentle and soothing. Max responded in kind and Val stretched into the caress as the other man’s hands slowly stroked up and down his side.

“Better?” Max asked quietly when the kiss ended.

Val nodded, not trusting himself to speak for a moment. “Yeah,” he said finally. In one sense, it was. While not erasing what he had done, it gave him another memory to cling to as a buffer when the Beast came calling to remind him what a horrible thing he’d done and how he was past redemption. To have Max trust him like this went far beyond anything had hoped for. Ever. Even now, he was locking the memory away somewhere safe and he knew this was something he would never share with Tevis beyond the mere fact it had happened. Later, when he was alone, _then_ he would take it out, look at it…and imagine what might have been if things were different. “You?”

“Yeah,” Max said after a moment. When Val looked at him, Max pulled himself up slightly on the pillows to look the other man square in the face. “It is,” he said firmly. “Just a lot to think about. No regrets, though,” he emphasized. “None.” He leaned in and kissed Val. “Thanks.”

“For what?”

“Trusting me.”

If Val had needed to breathe, it would have caught in his throat. As it was, he had to look away for a moment before he could look at Max. “Other way round,” he said. “Told you I love you.”

“I know,” Max said, hearing the sheets rustle as he shifted in the bed. The smell of sex was strong. “Like a friend or a brother or like a lot of things were circumstances different.” When Val looked at him, startled, Max smiled. “I heard and I…understand,” he added. He did think he understood what Val meant and would wonder later what “different” might have looked like. “But there’s also Tevis and Tree,” he finished. Reaching out, Max pushed Val’s hair back from his forehead and let his hand trail down the side of Val’s face and down his arm. “If I ever did jump the fence, you’d have to be free and clear.”

Val knew Max meant it seriously and he was embarrassingly flattered and touched. He kissed Max lightly, more friendship than passion. "Tell you what. You marry my sister, make some babies and if the grass ever looks greener...I'll be there.”

Max snorted. “Make some babies.” He rolled his eyes and threw back the covers. “Deal. But for now I think we should shower and go show everyone that we’ve managed not to kill each other.”

Val made a noise of assent and followed. This had been a lovely dream but the real world waited outside the hotel room door and they couldn’t stay here forever.

No matter how much he wanted to.


	20. Same Song, Different Players

Showered and dressed, they opened the door and checked to make sure no one was in the hall, then casually walked toward the elevator. When they reached their floor, they walked over to stand in front of their rooms and looked at each other. "So," Max asked. "What does Carol Merrill think? Should we check and see what's behind door number one, number two, or number three?"  
  
"You're insane," Val muttered, smiling.  
  
"Go with your strengths, I always say," Max responded. He felt as if a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders and it was making him a little giddy. Val’s smile was an added bonus.  
  
Val was saved from further remarks about his friend's sanity when door number two opened and Andy’s lanky frame filled the space . "I'd pick this one," Andy said.  
  
"You suck as Carol Merrill, Andy," Max said, shaking his head as he stepped past the man into the room.  
  
"Not even a poor man's Vanna White," Val said sadly.  
  
"So," Adam asked from over by the window, "What the hell took you two so long?"  
  
Max coughed. He looked at Val and saw the vampire shrug his shoulders as if to say it was up to Max how he replied for them. Max tried to raise an eyebrow in a way that signified just how much he appreciated being elected spokesperson and then looked back at the two men waiting for his answer. "There was...a lot to discuss," he said finally, getting a punch in the back for his attempt at delicacy.  
  
"Really?" Adam asked dryly, his eyebrows raised.  
  
"Really," Max tried to counter in the same dry tones. "Scout's honor." He held up two fingers, then three, then back to two again. “I don’t know how to do that.”  
  
Andy chuckled. “Even if you had, I don’t know that I’d believe you’d ever been a Boy Scout, Max. Whatever it is, I just hope the two of you found a mutually agreeable solution."  
  
A flash of sense memory sent heat through Max and he had to wait for it to subside before he answered. “You could say that.”  
  
“I think so,” Val echoed a moment later.  
  
While Andy and Adam were friendly and obviously concerned, Max really didn’t want to try to find any more circumspect responses to their questions. He turned to see Val. “Why don’t you go find Tevis?” he suggested. That would get Val out of the room and then Max could make his excuses a few moments later  
  
"We probably won't be staying another night but we’re at loose ends until Jan and Evan get back," Andy informed them. “Stay in the hotel if you would, please. Both of you."  
  
Val nodded his assent and looked at Max. Their eyes locked for a brief moment and he saw something warm and fond in Max’s gaze before the vampire pulled the door open and left.  
  
When he entered his room, Tevis sat up in bed and opened his arms as Val, without a word, crawled up next to him and laid his head on Tevis’ shoulder. The only sound for a few moments was the other man’s breathing. “Better?” Tevis asked.  
  
Val raised his head and looked at his lover, who had unconsciously echoed Max. He settled back down a moment later and nodded against Tevis’ chest, closing his eyes. “I think so. How are you?”  
  
“Fine.” Val could hear the rustle of the sheets as Tevis pulled them up around him. “Your friends have been very solicitous.”  
  
"I could have killed both of you," Val whispered.  
  
"But you did not.” Tevis said and kissed Val’s hair. His fingers trailed down Val’s side and stopped when he touched a rise of bone and Val hissed. He moved away, turned on the bedside lamp and drew the covers back. The skin over Val’s ribs was slightly distended and now they could both easily see the hard edge of bone pressing over darkened flesh. “What have you done, Val?” Tevis demanded, the melodic accent now drowned under growing anger. “Did he do this? Did you let him?”  
  
"Max didn't do it," Val said quickly. "It was already...it just hasn't healed up yet," he finished as Tevis got to his feet with a stony expression on his face. "Where are you going?"  
  
"To get Adam and Paulie. You need to feed.” His expression softened as he touched Val's face. "If you do not take care of yourself, cher, how will you take care of me?" He tipped Val’s’ chin up and gently kissed him. "Do not move until I get back," he warned.  
  
Val dropped back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. He wanted to be somewhere, anywhere else right then. He didn’t deserve the care and concern he was being shown after what he‘d done to the people who mattered most to him. He barely looked up when Adam came into the room with Paulie right behind him. "You should have said something," Adam scolded.  
  
"It wasn't that bad," Val groused but pulled himself upright at Adam's request.  
  
"Being a vamp not all it’s cracked up to be, Val?" Paulie said with a grin as he rolled up his sleeve and stripped off his watch.  
  
"You have a truly sick sense of humor," Val said but he smiled as a gesture of gratitude. Tevis settled back on the bed and pulled Val up against him.  
  
"You two are so cute I might have to throw up." Paulie sat down next to Val and offered his wrist. "And none of that funny stuff, kid. I'm on duty," he warned.  
  
"Spoilsport," Val muttered. But he could feel the Hunger begin to take notice of the fresh food source even as Paulie extended his wrist. It hadn't with Max. Now, though, the damnable thing was whispering that blood would ease his pain and that there were multiple sources that could easily be subdued and taken.  
  
That made him take extra caution. He bit gently and almost moaned as the wash of blood hit his palate. The dull burn and ache in his chest and side flared briefly into a sharp prism of pain, then faded. He settled into the feeding, mentally counting off the seconds as he always tried to do, trying not to put anything in the bite save the gratitude he felt. Even so, his own body began reacting. Yet another thing out of his control.  
  
He hit one minute and released Paulie. The other man did nothing but blink once or twice before rolling his shirt sleeve back down and picking up his watch. Val leaned back, relaxing into Tevis' embrace, aware that Adam was still sitting on the end of the bed. "You need to take it as easy as you can, Val," Adam warned. "I know you'll heal but you let it heal wrong and you will hurt forever."  
  
Val nodded and tried to pay attention over the growing demands of his body but he was glad when Adam and Paulie left. Feeling sated and pleasantly aroused, he stretched sinuously against Tevis. "I want you to fuck me," he whispered against his lover's lips.  
  
Tevis slid down next to Val but there was something in his voice Val couldn’t identify when he spoke. "You smell like him," Tevis said. His fingers stroked Val’s skin. "Did he hurt you?”  
  
No,” Val said quickly. “He was very sweet, very gentle...and very scared. To do…offer that after what I did to him…” He cleared his throat and consciously switched to an easier topic. “Are you mad?”  
  
“You love him,” he heard Tevis say finally. “I understand that. You have come second to Madeleine time and again because of my bond with her. By fate or whatever you wish to call it, you have bonded yourself to Max. All I ask right now is that you come back to me as I have to you.”  
  
Val nodded and kissed him, then lost himself to his lover's scent and smell and feel until Tevis became his whole world once more.


	21. Welcome to New Orleans - Now Go Home

Max collapsed on to one of the two twin beds as Adam and Paulie left the room.  Andrew looked over at him.  "So. You two apparently managed not to kill each other."

Max turned his head on the pillow to better see the other man.  "Val and I just worked things out," he hedged.  When Andy said nothing, Max turned his face away to stare up at the ceiling. "We...slept together."

“I thought that might have something to do with it,” he heard Andy say after a few moments more of silence. “Why?  You think what Val did changed you?"

"No."  Max shook his head and sat up. He rubbed one hand against the bedspread as he tried to order his thoughts. He really wasn’t even sure why he was telling Andy save that the other man had become a comforting and friendly presence in the short time Max had been in Atlanta. He’d come by several times while Max was working at MATADA ostensibly just to see how Max was adjusting to his new life and Max had appreciated that along with Andy’s willingness to sit down and talk for a few minutes if Max indicated he wanted or needed to do so which was something new for Max. Also new was the fact that Andy was never judgmental or told him what he should do. The few times Max had asked for advice, Andy had offered up what his experiences had been but left the ultimate decision up to Max.

“I don’t…” he stated slowly. “I don’t want to be what Tevis is to him. Don’t think I could be.” He drew his legs up and crossed them at the ankle, alternating his gaze between looking directly at Andy and somewhere over Andy’s left shoulder. “And, for me, there’s Theresa. I really...care about her and she’s becoming part of my life in a way that Val can’t be. And I need that. Want it.” A slight thrill ran through Max as he heard himself say the words and felt the truth of them nestle down deep within him. He wanted to take the chance and believe what his heart was beginning to tell him.

“I care about Val, too. Maybe it’d be different if circumstances were different,” he said softly and kept his eyes firmly fixed on the bad spackle and paint job on the wall behind Andy. “I don’t know.”

He thought he saw Andy nod out of the corner of his eye and wished the other man would say something. Max had turned not talking about himself or thinking too deeply about his wants and needs into an art form and trying to articulate what he was feeling now made him deeply uncomfortable. He brought up a hand and rubbed the back of his neck before dropping it back into his lap. “It just seemed the best way to try and say it and that he’s my best friend and I still want him in my life.”

Max became aware of a tingling sensation in his hands and looked down to see he’d knotted his fingers together, the tips white. He loosed his hands and looked at Andy. “Please make me stop talking now.”

The smile Andy gave Max was gentle. “You are hereby released from any more self-analysis this evening,” he said. The smile widened at Max’s audible sigh. “All you really need to remember is that love – or really caring about someone – comes in many forms. You don’t have to understand or label them all. You should just enjoy them in your life.”

“I’ll work on it,” Max said. He started to stand up but Andy’s voice stopped him.

“Only one more thing you need to do this evening.”

“What’s that?”

“Call your girlfriend.”

Max went to sit at the small table and picked up the receiver before he realized what Andy had called Tree.  "I hate you, McAran," he said blandly as he dialed.

"I'm crushed, Max.  Really."  The wide smile belied the sentiment and Max turned away, shaking his head and propping his feet on the wall as he waited for the phone to begin ringing at the Everetts.  Suddenly, he felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up to see Andy standing over him.  "Tell her I said you were an idiot if you don't marry her."

"Get away from me, Andy," Max said, rolling his eyes.  Andy squeezed Max's shoulder lightly and made a production of tiptoeing and shutting the door very carefully behind him.  "Lunatics," Max mumbled to himself.  "I'm stuck with a bunch of lunatics." 

Tim answered the phone. Max identified himself and asked to speak to Tree. There was a pause and then the phone was dropped on the counter with a crash that made Max wince. He could hear Tim yelling for Tree to hurry up because Max was on the phone.  There was some indistinct yelling back and then a loud scraping noise as the receiver was picked up again.

"She wants to know if you're going to hang up on her again," was the breathless commentary.

 _Oh. Yeah._   "No.  Tell her I won't," Max promised, shutting his eyes in resignation as Tim yelled his response.  He could just picture the looks on Frank's and Hugh's faces and hoped like hell Pat wasn’t home.  There were more sounds he couldn’t identify and then he heard Tim’s voice talking to someone. He could only hope it was Tree.

When the receiver was picked up again, he heard Tim once more. "Did you really tell Tree you love her?" Tim asked.  "Gross.”

"Just put her on the phone, Tim," Max threatened, "or I'll hang you from the theatre catwalk by your ankles." 

There was a pause and then another voice on the line.  "That might actually work with him.  Is that offer good anytime?"

Tree.  "Hi," he said quietly.  She returned his greeting, letting the silence stretch out.  "Was that all you called to say?" she wanted to know.

"No."  Max rubbed his face with his hand.  "I called to tell you we should be home pretty quick. Maybe late tonight or early tomorrow."  He could hear Andy's voice in his head and took a breath, letting it out slowly before he spoke.  "And...to tell you...that I meant what I said."

"Which was?"  The tone was soft but he should have known Tree wasn't going to make this easy on him. The Everetts were a tough-love bunch.

He took the plunge. "That I love you." 

There was silence that seemed to stretch on for an eternity until Tree spoke. "I love you too, Max."

Whatever reply he was going to make was cut off by the sound of younger voices all making retching sounds.  "Tim!  Daniel!" Tree yelled. “Get off the phone!”

Max started laughing both in happiness and sheer relief.  "Go kill 'em, Tree.  Just tie 'em up and we'll string all the offenders up from the catwalk like I said."

"They'll be there," Tree promised grimly and Max knew her brothers were definitely in deep trouble.  "I gotta go, Max, before they get away.  Can't wait to see you."

"Me either," he grinned.  "Now go and do me proud."

"You got it."  Tree hung up and he sat staring at the receiver in his hand. The sound of the hotel room door opening made him turn in his chair.

"There. Wasn't that easy?" Andy sounded smug.

Max hung up the phone.  "You always this involved?"

"Only with those I care about.” When Max stood up, Andy slung an arm around his shoulders. "C'mon, while we're waiting for Evan and Jan, I'll buy you a drink and give you the benefit of my experience."

"Oh, great," Max said as they walked out the door. "This should take all of five minutes."

"I think I've been insulted," Andrew said amiably, guiding Max into the elevator. "You have no idea of my level of experience or prowess.”

"And if it's all the same to you," Max retorted with a grin, "I'd like to keep it that way."

The elevator ride was short and they entered the hotel bar to see Paulie and Clea sharing a drink and some appetizers but Andrew made no effort to join them, instead steering Max toward the bar.

Max sat on the barstool next to Andy and leaned one elbow on the bar.  "Where's Adam?” he asked after placing his order. “You guys are usually joined together at the hip." 

"Adam is playing babysitter to Val and Tevis while trying to convince his wife that we really are leaving tonight or tomorrow."

Max took a long drink from his bottle and then set it down carefully on the small coaster.  "I'm going to ask you a question because I really want to know the answer."  He hoped Andy would take his meaning.  Even though he chafed at the restrictions that the others put on him both in Atlanta and here in New Orleans, Max had found that, if he admitted it, Andy and Adam had good reason for making him toe the line and he hoped he'd passed whatever test might have gone along with that. “I get the whole Gifts thing. I’ve experienced yours. What’s Adam’s?”

Andrew paused before answering staring at his drink like he had found something unidentifiable in it. "Like Jan, Adam has a great many gifts and the potential for a lot of talent...magic, that sort of thing," Andrew said quietly so only Max could hear. "But his strongest gift -- the one that got him caught up in all this is clairvoyance. Seeing the future,” he elaborated at Max’s blank look.

“The way you say it, it doesn’t sound like he’s getting the inside line at who’s going to win the 3rd at Pimlico,” Max observed.

Andy shook his head, his usual cheerful expression taking on a more somber cast. “The strongest, most clear images he sees is death. It can be people he doesn’t even know or it can be those closest to him like Phyllida or the kids. The last are the hardest. And he hates it because even seeing them, it's very unusual for him to be able to do anything about them. So…he resists. He resists his gifts, resists Evan and his resources. He’d rather have nothing to do with the Pillars at all except that he can't help himself. Most of the people he cares about are there and standing back to back with a friend is as natural as breathing for him."

Max drank some of his beer and steeled himself to ask the question at the back of his mind. “Did…were we supposed to die the other night?”

"Supposed to?” Andy echoed. “Don’t know that we’ll ever really know the answer to that one. Clairvoyance isn’t fixed. There are multiple outcomes all dependent on what someone chooses to do at any given time.” He reached out and tightly grasped Max’s forearm, leaning in close to the younger man and holding his gaze. “While he was pretty sure they would come after him, he **didn’t** see what would happen to you, Max. He would have warned us or found a way to prevent you from going. The only thing he was reasonably sure about was that neither of us would end up dead.” He looked into his nearly empty glass as if what he wanted to say next was written on the bottom. “He didn’t see it,’ he said again, softly. “I know he thinks he should have but his gift isn't that predictable."

“Before?"  Max nearly choked on his beer.  "And he still sent us off and faced them alone?"  He saw Andy nod and decided Adam was either incredibly brave and committed or should be committed.  "And you guys tell _me_ to think before I act?" 

"The only thing I know for sure is he had something up his sleeve, something that required information from Jan and Evan. But I don’t know much more than that. I was pretty out of it last night and Adam currently isn’t sharing much on that topic.” A brief expression of frustration creased Andy’s features.

"Is there any way he can stop it?  Control it somehow?" Max wanted to know. "I mean, God, that's gotta be hell to walk around knowing how and when everyone around you is going to die."  He shook his head. 

"He could. But the better he gets means the fewer excuses he has not to get involved in the Pillars on a more day to day basis. But Evan will use last night against him. Guilt is Evan's favorite weapon."

"Does his wife know about it?  I mean...has he told her..."  _Told her what_ , Max asked himself.  That Adam knew when she would die and could measure the lives of his children?  _Yeah, that’d make great dinner conversation._

Something caught Andy’s eye and Max turned to follow his gaze, seeing Paulie slide off his barstool. "I would think Evan and Jan have returned," Andrew said as he threw down some bills. Max followed suit and they rode upstairs with Clea while Paulie excused himself to the lobby.

They found Adam dozing in a chair but he came awake as they entered. "Get Tevis and Val, would you, Max?" Andrew asked. “I think all of us would only rather go through this once.”

Still not quite sure what “this” was, Max nodded and headed next door. A knock got him an invitation to come in and he entered to find Val and Tevis dressed and curled up on the bed together. “Jan’s here,” he said shortly. “Along with this Evan guy – whoever he is. Andy wants us next door.” He waited for them and they walked back into the room together.

Max’s first impression was that Evan Richards, for all the guarded respect he seemed to engender in his troops, was not that impressive a man to look at. He was in a wheelchair but Max hazarded he might be as tall as Paulie if he were standing. His face looked gaunt, skin stretched over bone, giving him the look of a bird of prey, all sharp features, hooked nose and dark eyes.  Gnarled, arthritic hands gripped the arm rests of his chair like talons. He barely even glanced at Max, Val and Tevis as Paulie positioned the chair as if Evan was holding court which, in a way, Max supposed he was considering how Andy and the others talked about him. All Max knew was that he felt his hackles beginning to rise, similar to the same chafing, strangling feeling he’d had working under Venatti and Sammy.

Jan looked tired and a bit under the weather but the eyes and face were as placid and calm as Max remembered. He saw Andrew leaning seemingly casually against the wall but the way his eyes darted between Adam, sitting across the room as far from the immediate grouping as possible, and Evan gave Max the idea there were undercurrents in these relationships he was only barely aware of – and now possibly had an unwanted front row seat to view them. He spared a small smile and a slight shoulder shrug for Tevis and Val as they sat down next to him in one of the remaining chairs, Tevis half on Val’s lap. He stood and moved to stand behind them and rested his hands on their chair as Evan began to speak.

"It's settled. The present structure remains as is," Evan began without preamble. His voice did was deep and resonant and did not match his physical appearance at all. "With a few more monitors in place to keep this from occurring again."

His gaze shifted to Adam. "You...you are a threat to everyone and everything that comes in contact with you," he snapped and Adam didn't move or even react. "You knew there was a vampire in Atlanta."

"Yes."

"And decided in your infinite wisdom to say nothing."

"So it would seem."

"Don't fence with me, Adam," Evan said and it had the unmistakable sound of an order. "This could all have been averted--"

"How? Because you would have hunted Val down to keep the city pure? Fuck off," Adam said. A red flush colored his cheeks. "Accountable for our own actions is the general tenet, isn't it?"

Andrew stepped in. "What about Val?"

Jan answered while Adam and Evan continued to stare at each other. "He is...exiled is the best word. Definitely from New Orleans and possibly from any other community of vampires, depending on how fast or how much Anis cares to get the word out. Dead on sight and open prey to anyone who finds him after midnight tonight. Neither Max nor Tevis are on anyone’s guest lists either."

"Welcome to New Orleans.  Now go home," Max said into the quiet.  "How does Val get out of here?  I assume you're not just going to drop him off at the Greyhound station with a one way ticket."

"We've already chartered a plane," Clea said kindly. "He will go back to Atlanta temporarily until we can decide what to do on a more permanent basis."

Val slipped his arms around Tevis’ waist. "What about Tev?"

"We did not discuss your friend at all. Nor was his name mentioned," Evan said, staring at Val as if seeing him for the first time.

"I think Madeleine is willing to let him go, Val," Jan said and Max thought the expression on his face was more kind than the stony expression Evan was currently working. “The bond still exists but she if she makes no active use of it, it will eventually fade. When was the last time you drank her blood?"

"About a month ago," the young Jamaican murmured. "So she doesn't want me anymore?"

"We didn't discuss it in any great detail, Tevis,” Jan said but it wasn’t as dismissive as Evan’s previous statement. “But you and especially Max are both persona non grata around here. I would strongly suggest that neither of you find a reason need to be in New Orleans ever again.” Max tensed as Jan’s gaze swung to him but it was clear and not the odd, unfocused look he remembered from the night of his “interview”. “Hope you don't have any lingering cravings for gumbo."

"My taste is running more towards Italian now, anyway," Max answered and caught a brief, slightly strained smile from Andrew.  "Not my town anymore.  Not my life."   Max looked down to see Val's head still resting against Tevis' back and he touched his friend's shoulder.  "You gonna be okay with this until you figure out what you're going to do?  I can scout out lovely basement apartments for you, y'know."  The attempt at humor felt awkward and Max was sure the hawkish man in the wheelchair didn't appreciate it at all, but Max felt the need to try and at least momentarily alleviate some of Val's stress.  He knew the vampire was already thinking about how he'd have to avoid his family in Atlanta.

"It depends," Val said and rested his chin on Tevis shoulder. "Cher? Tell me what you want. I'm not going anywhere without you."

Tevis was staring at Jan and completely ignoring Evan. "If...if Madeleine does not want me then my life has no meaning here. But she could claim me again until the binding is broken."

"She would have to come to you for that and that’s extremely unlikely if you are in Atlanta. Frankly, it’d be more trouble than you’re worth," Jan said evenly and then sat down on the edge of a bed as if his legs wouldn't support him anymore.

"I don't seem to have many options," Val said. "If Tevis agrees to come I'll go. Max and I will figure out something to do about my family."

Max nodded and looked back up at the people in the room.  "Is Val going to have any trouble in Atlanta?"  He tried to look at everyone in the room to see if he could read anything in their expressions but ended up looking straight at Evan as if drawn to him.   The longer they stared at each other, the more Max had the uncomfortable feeling that the man could turn him into a pile of cinders with the power of his mind. Second to that was a growing desire to tell Evan to fuck off. The old man had made things quite clear and, to Max’s mind, was now just rubbing it in. He’d been under Venatti and Sammy long enough to recognize when someone was exerting their power simply for the ability to remind others it existed and could be used and, frankly, Evan was starting to piss Max off. He’d already aligned himself with Adam and Andy by action and Max figured it was time to make it official; choose a side.

"It wasn't just Andy or Adam who helped him.  I did too."  _And I would again_  was left unspoken but Max was sure Evan could read the comment in his eyes anyway. Hell, the man could probably fucking read his mind.

"So you did," Evan said. “He – and you – have already been the root of a great many problems. All compounded by your thoughtless interference," he said glaring at Adam.

The glare switched to his protégé. Jan steadily met his gaze. "And utilized resources that should have been discussed with me first. I need not remind any of you that the stakes are higher here than the ease and comfort of a few lives. Having a vampire in Atlanta upsets a great many things but may prove valuable in the long run. It depends on how well he can be brought to heel.

"Pardon my ignorance," Adam said in a way that implied his question was prompted by anything but ignorance. "You are still Adept - still the Southern Pillar. Why weren't you aware of the problems here?"

"They weren't problems until you interfered,” Evan snapped. “This vampire was the Kindred's to deal with as they saw fit. Their laws, lest you forget, are what keep their balance of Chaos. Not ours. We had no right or even sufficient reason to interfere. You made this personal - all of you," he said implacably, staring at Jan. "And you, Janus, know very well what the price of that can be better than anyone in this room.”

Evan reached down and released the brakes on his wheelchair. “Paul, Clea. We are leaving in an hour. I would suggest you all gather your things. The plane leaves at midnight with or without you.” Paul maneuvered the wheelchair out of the room with Clea following. She stopped near Jan for a moment. “I’ll arrange a car,” she said to him. “I would lie down until then, Jan.”

Jan nodded and waited for the door to shut before speaking. "He's right, you know. We almost had a war on our hands."

"What happened?" Andy asked. 

"Basically, Anis was brought to see that by Crispin entering Atlanta to make Val, he broke one of the basics of the agreement. I don't think it will happen again. And Crispin is under the same edict as Val. I would guess Madeleine's basic position is that she is on probation -- but she is one pissed off vampire. I thought Anis was going to rip her throat out.” Jan sighed. “I’ll tell you more on the plane. I’m done in right now.” A glance from Adam had Andy helping Jan to one of the unoccupied rooms while Adam moved to gather their things.

Max touched Val's shoulder again.  "Why don't you guys go back to the room and get yourselves ready?" he asked quietly.  "Just throw my stuff in my bag?"  He figured Val would probably want some time alone with Tevis so they could prepare for the journey back to Atlanta – a place Val thought he’d left forever.

Max watched them leave and then occupied himself by doing simple things like pushing the chairs back in at the table before looking over at Adam.  "Are you OK?"

"Fine," Adam replied shortly, intent on his packing.

"Can I ask you a question, Adam?"

At that Adam looked up and there was a spark of humor in his eyes.  "What's this, Max? Politeness?  I don't recall you letting your curiosity be checked before."

Max opened his mouth and then decided to let that one slide - mostly.  "Enjoy it while it lasts?” he suggested. “You can always tell me it's none of my business."

"I'll keep that in mind."  Adam closed the suitcase on the bed and turned, leaning against it.  "Shoot."

"You invested...invest a lot of time with all of us.  You guys took me on originally at Val's request, at least took a look at me.  You helped Val and then you came to New Orleans.  And while I was pretty pissed off at you in the beginning," Max admitted, "you kinda make sense about how to look at things and…and Val. If you do all that," Max wound up, "why won't you let someone help you?  Is it just the involvement thing?"  He wasn't sure how to take the look on Adam's face.  "Am I flying without a net again?

"Between the two of us we would make quite the trapeze artists," Adam said but it looked like he was seriously considering Max’s question. "No. It's not the involvement thing. I seem to do that without much effort. Half the time I don’t even think I notice until I’m in the middle of it and I’m okay with that. But in Evan's case there is a pretty hefty price tag attached to _his_ help.”

He sat down and motioned for Max to do the same if he wanted. “I don't want this gift, Max. I never did. It has brought me more grief than joy since I was eleven years old.  But I have it so I use it; mostly when it suits me and sometimes when it doesn't.”

“But Evan?” Max prompted.

“Evan,” Adam repeated and sighed. “Evan doesn't want me just to learn about these gifts. He wants me to take Jan's place."

Max could hear something in Adam’s voice but being so new to the whole idea of Gifts and Order and Chaos and everything that went along with it, he didn’t know how to respond or even what Adam’s true feelings about the idea might be. Either way, it wasn't for Max to offer an opinion on something he knew very little about.  "But if..." he started, then stopped, and then plunged on ahead again. Adam had said he could ask.  "If you don't accept his offer, what happens?"

Adam picked up a half-folded shirt and then set it down. “I keep doing what I do for a while. Basically until someone decides the choices I make are seriously jeopardizing what the Pillars stand for. Then we'll see."

Choices.  They'd been making them all along and Max had been making several of his own. They’d started with the choice to accompany Val to Atlanta and then to stay there while Val returned to New Orleans. He’d then chosen to come to New Orleans to find his friend and throw in his chances with Andy and Adam. Now it looked like he was going to have a whole new set of choices to make not the least of which was how much he wanted to figure out this Gifts business.

Max looked up from his musings to find Adam watching him with a half-smile on his face. “Sorry. You say something?”

“I just asked if you had any more questions,” Adam said as he stuffed the shirt in his bag. “I don’t mind answering them but we need to get a move on. Evan is not kidding when he says the plane leaves with or without us and I’d prefer not to take our chances in New Orleans on our own.”

“Right.” Max stood up. “I’m gonna wait in the lobby since Val will have my stuff. But, um, if I can, uh, help in any way, let me know.”

“Will do.”

Adam held his hand out and Max grasped it after a moment. When he did, Adam said, “You have managed to remind a lot of us what the hell it is we're doing and why. Don't underestimate your own contribution - active or not," he said earnestly, gray eyes holding Max's for a long moment.

"Thanks.  I'll...um...try to keep that in mind the next time I hear about thinking before I do anything," Max finally said, dodging the sentiment with his customary retreat into self-deprecating humor.  "You guys are the ones who made me feel like I had something to contribute so…thanks." 

Once he’d left the room, he cooled his heels in the lobby and stared out the glass doors until he saw Val’s and Tevis’ reflections and turned around to greet them. "You ready for this, bro?" he asked Val as the vampire came near.

Val gave him a lopsided smile. "Doesn't seem to matter if I am ready or not, does it?  I seem to be short on options and night.” The three of them watched as the others entered the lobby and Paulie and Clea supervised the loading of luggage into the cars. He had his arm around Tevis' shoulders but the two of them looked anything but happy. Tevis looked as close to terrified as Max had ever seen the usually calm face.

"It'll work out.  Somehow."  He caught Val's slightly skeptical look. "Well, if I said I knew how, I'd either be lying or God."  Max looked over at Tevis.  "I didn't miss any wings or anything sprouting out of my back, did I?"

"No, cher," Tevis said gamely. "I do not think you have joined the angels yet."

"Nothing to my folks yet," Val said quietly, not looking at anything but his feet. "Not until I know what we're going to do."

"It'll be your call, Val," Max promised.  "I told you I'd keep your secret and if that's what you want, that's what I'll do."  He hated saying it, hoped with all he had that Val might decide to share his secret with his family and God knew Max would try to find a way to make the Everetts understand.  But that was going to be Val's choice.  "C'mon," he said, throwing an arm around Val.  "I think we're holding up the parade.  Lord knows I don't need to add making Evan miss his flight to my list of sins."

"If I thought I could make it permanent I might be tempted," Val said with a certain subdued savagery. "Manipulative son of a bitch."

"Val," Tevis calmed him with a touch and Val settled down. Evan, Jan, Clea and  Paul took the first car and the remaining five piled into the second. It was still a tense and quiet ride to the airport and then directly onto the tarmac through the gate used for private planes.  Then it was a matter of grabbing their bags and boarding the plane although Max was surprised to see Evan get out of his wheel chair and walk, climbing the stairs with little difficulty but slowly. Once inside, Max found himself with Adam and Val and Tevis in four facing seats while Andrew sat with Jan and Evan, the three of them appearing to be in some kind of deep conversation.

"Val,” Adam said. “For tonight, you and Tevis are coming home with me unless you have another suggestion. I have a guest room in my basement so no worries about daylight.  Max, you can stay as well if you like or go on to MATADA.”

"MATADA," Max said shortly. Some place known and familiar sounded really good right about now.

"What's going to happen to us?" Val asked. His fingers were wound tightly with Tevis'.

"Working on it," Adam told him. "Andrew's trying to force Evan to lay out the compromise now. First though, we'll help you find a place that’s secure. If you want to take up your former profession that's up to you but I can promise you, Val, Evan is adamant that there will be no killing. We don't know just how far Anis' exile will go so, for the moment, we are assuming that you are anathema to all Kindred. Which means that there really isn't anyplace you will be totally safe.” He held up a hand when Val opened his mouth. “But…all Kindred are not bound by Anis' word so let’s just wait and see what Evan can come up with. Your immediate needs are being taken care of.”

Adam looked at Tevis. "What about you? We can probably find you work if you are a mind to...something to fill your daylight hours."

"I had not thought about it," Tevis said dully. "I have been Madeleine's secretary for years." His voice broke slightly on “years”. "But I do not think she will be willing to give me a reference. Other than that?” He shrugged but the gesture looked forced. “My old profession is not unlike Val's. We could survive that way, I think."

"Let me see what I can find,” Adam said. “You as well, Val. Although explaining why you can't take a day shift could take some explaining."

"I could go back to waiting tables but I still have to feed. Tevis can't support me on his own."

"All Evan said is not to kill. Feeding is a given. You were subtle about it before so we have no reason to think you won't remain that way." Adam leaned forward. "Val, you have been through a lot in the last few weeks. Give yourself a chance to see something other than the worst."

The vampire nodded but either he was too tired or too scared to do more than agree and Adam sat back in his seat and closed his eyes. 


	22. Home Again

They touched down at Hartsfield in the early morning hours and scattered to their ultimate destinations.

Max, per his request, was let off at MATADA.  He got out slowly, feeling very tired as he reached in and pulled his bag out behind him.  It looked like Adam had every intention of waiting to see Max enter the building but the younger man told him to go ahead and get Val and Tevis safe; he'd be fine.  Adam nodded and Max watched the headlights disappear before turning and slowly hauling his ass up the stairs.  Letting himself into his room, he threw the bag into the corner and flopped down on his bed, still unmade from his rapid departure three days ago; a lifetime ago.  He barely remembered to set the alarm before falling asleep.

When the alarm shrilled next to his ear only a few hours later, it took all Max's self-control not to throw it across the room.  As he sat up, he realized he was still in his clothes from last night. A desultory search of his bag produced nothing that he particularly wanted to replace his current outfit with and he’d been meaning to find a laundromat before his unscheduled departure. _Great._ Well, if he was going to look like a hobo, at least he could not smell like one. A quick shower left him feeling cleaner if not more awake and Max decided the one or two Pepsis he’d left in the communal fridge would probably at least finish the job of waking him up. _Caffeination and then find the boss._

After gulping down one soda, Max grabbed the other and sipped at it as he searched for Pete. He found the man on the floor of the theater standing in between a row of seats and staring at the stage. There was something about the quiet, semi-darkness of the theater that soothed Max’s still slightly jangled nerves and he found himself taking a slow, deep breath as his body seemed to finally relax.

Max sidled up to Pete.  "Hey, bossman."

"Do I know you?” Pete grinned at Max’s roll of the eyes. “Well, wasn't entirely sure I'd be seeing you again," Pete admitted. "You and everyone else disappeared without leaving so much as a note.”

“Sorry,” Max apologized around a yawn. “I wasn’t exactly in charge of that little three hour cruise.” He started to say something else but was cut off by another yawn.

“What time _did_ you get in?"

"About five hours ago.," Max told him.  "Put me to work, will you?"

"Got a preference?"

Max drank some more soda before responding. “Anything that does not require me to think. I have thought before I’ve acted more in the past three days than the past five years. All I want to do now is something incredibly dull."

Pete laughed at that. “I’ve got just the thing for your thought fatigue. We need to frame out about twenty flats. Boring, repetitive, and requiring precision measurements but no finesse. Follow me."

The labor was as mind-numbingly dull as Pete had promised but at least it let Max empty his mind and not have to concentrate on anything but the task at hand.  In fact, he could even forget time existed - including what time of day it was and what time the sun went down.

Max looked up from knocking together a flat at the sound of Pete calling his name. A glance at his watch told him it was close to quitting time. “What’s up?”

"You up for another hour or so?" Pete asked.

"Sure.  My dance card isn't exactly full these days," Max said.  "What you got?" He stood up and started dusting sawdust off his T-shirt and jeans.

"One of the Mill houses is going to be converted. One of the ones that has a basement,” Pete watched for Max’s reaction but the other man appeared intent on making sure there was not one speck of sawdust left on his clothes. “We also apparently have a new box office manager to train. Know a guy named Tevis?"

"You might say that," Max agreed.  He slowly straightened up. “Houses with basements and Tevis as a box office manager.  Sounds kinda permanent.  They decide to stay?" He hoped he sounded as casual as he was trying for. Something about them – or, more precisely, Val – being in Atlanta made him feel off-kilter and it wasn’t a feeling he liked.

"Jan called. He said it’s what’s been decided for now – or what Tevis has decided. Apparently Val isn't up to making many decisions per Tevis to Andrew and Andrew to Jan.” Pete blew out a breath and crossed his arms over his chest. “At some point, I hope someone plans to enlighten me. Jan isn’t sharing and neither is Andrew.”   When Max didn’t volunteer anything extra, Pete sighed again. “Anyway, he asked if we would go over and check out the house, make a list of what needs to be done and then let them know. Andrew will bring Val and Tevis by after dark because Adam is apparently under house arrest."

"His choice?" Max asked and belatedly realized that Pete’s raised eyebrows probably indicated his tone wasn’t as neutral as he was hoping it had been which probably meant the whole casual attitude he’d been going for was a bust. To give himself a moment to recover, Max turned and stacked the wood he’d cut into a neat pile.

“I don’t…I’m not really sure what to say,” he said and shoved his hands in his pockets, elbows close to his sides as if trying to ward off a blow. Max had successfully managed to not think about any of New Orleans while he’d been working and talking about any of it now, no matter how circumspectly, made him feel like ghosts were gathering at the corner of his vision; that he could turn and see the Bayou or Yvette or Crispin…or the shed at the plantation. “There was just a lot…a lot of shit that went down and, um, it’s…it’s not easy to talk about.”

Pete took in Max’s stiff posture, the way the younger man looked at anything but him, and made a tactical decision to withdraw. Andrew would more than likely at least give him the bare bones of what had happened at some point and he didn’t want to scare Max off. He liked the guy and wanted to see him succeed in the second chance he’d been given.

“I get it,” he finally said and saw Max’s tense posture slightly loosen up. “Let’s get the tools put away and I’ll show you the house.”

Cleanup only took a few minutes and soon the pair of them were crossing the parking lot and the field separating MATADA from the single street lined with the small houses. Most showed obvious signs of habitation via cars and swing sets and lawn furniture. As they walked, Pete told him the houses were part of MATADA and were available to rent by staff as an offshoot of the trust that funded much of MATADA’s outreach program.

“Rent runs between four-five hundred per month with housing being subsidized for employees. We like having them occupied. Smaller ones are usually roommates or actors and the bigger ones are reserved for folks with families." Pete told him as they walked up to the front door of the second house on the street and he felt in his pocket for the keys.

Inside, Max helped him check lights and faucets, making sure the basics worked and that any repairs would be minimal. He noted the basement was partially finished which made it habitable – a necessary feature. The main floor was in good shape as well with a working kitchen and small living area. The single bedroom upstairs would easily fit two people and all that needed to be done was some work to the front windows along with some painting and light bulb changes.

"This would probably best fit their needs," Max said.  "Not going to be too hard to fix up. Is this something that needs to be started soon?"  If Tevis had made the decision, Max thought, chances are he wouldn't have made it without at least talking to Val regardless if Val was answering or not.  That meant at least the vampire was thinking about remaining in Atlanta. What that meant for him personally was something Max didn’t even know how to answer.

"Well, see what they think. Tevis will initially be on probation but Adam seems to think he can do the job and, honestly, he can have it. I have to fill in when volunteers don't show and I hate it. We've been advertising but it doesn't pay that great and the hours are weird."

"Tevis should feel right at home then.  The weird hours," Max added in response to Pete's raised eyebrows.  "I have no idea if Primogens pay beyond minimum wage."

They headed back to the theater and Pete asked Max to wait while he ran upstairs to see Jan and tell him about the house. Max slouched against the wall, hands in his pockets, and contemplated his work boots until he heard feet on the stairs and looked up to see Pete coming back downstairs Jan behind him along with Andy, Val and Tevis.

Max was surprised to see any of them. He’d figured Jan would be holed up with Evan and that Val and Tevis would be hanging out in Adam’s basement. He nodded at everyone as they came closer but didn’t interrupt what looked like an ongoing conversation between Jan, Val and Tevis. He started when Andy touched him on the shoulder and gave a half-sheepish, half-defensive shrug when Andy asked him if he was all right.

“It’s all good,” Max said shortly.

“Uh huh,” Andy said. He tilted his head. “Come on out and talk with me while Jan finishes up.”

They walked outside and Andy leaned against his car. Max shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back and forth on his heels. “How’s Adam?” he asked when Andy didn’t immediately say anything.

"He’s home with Phyl,” Andrew said. “Taking some time to rest and hang out with his son. Jason can make Adam laugh better than anyone and he needed that since he spent most of the day rehashing his position and his decisions in New Orleans with Evan. I want Adam in the Pillars full time as much for his own sake as anything but given Evan's present mood, I'm surprised he hasn't put a for sale sign on the house and taken the lot of them back to England. His father never gave this much grief and Thomas Johnston can be a total pain in the ass.”

Max nodded. It wasn’t like he had any real experience with fathers to add to the mix. “Glad he’s got someone.”

That got him a quick, genuine smile from Andy. “You got plans tonight?

"Not particularly. I was thinking of going by the Everetts tonight but nobody's expecting me. Is there something you need me to do?"

"Stay close if you can. No real reason but a friendly face seems to be keeping Tevis focused on what needs to be done."

Andy’s gaze had gone to a point over Max’s shoulder and Max glanced back to see Jan, Tevis and Val appear from the building. "How's Val doing?"

"Don't know. He's been quiet. He went out to feed which is okay since there are enough strays around Little Five Points for him to do what he needs to only he didn't tell anyone except Tevis he was leaving. I can't tell if he's just tired, depressed or part of the New Orleans aftereffects," Andrew said softly, watching Val, who by now wasn't making any pretense of being interested in the conversation. The grouping started moving toward the houses. Andrew levered himself up from his reclined position against his car and motioned for Max to follow.

"How're you doing?" Andy asked him as they walked. "I know you and Val are still on a more even keel but Jan still wants you to talk to Savill."

"I'm fine, Andy," Max replied steadily.  He didn't care whether it sounded true or not.  "Why is everyone so interested in having me talk to this person?"

"Because we don't want you to wake up in a month or a year and suddenly recall your best friend raped you." Andrew said quietly but firmly. "I do this kind of counseling on the side, Max, but I know you so I might not be as objective as you need. All you have to do is talk to her once. More than that is up to you."

Max's stomach clenched.  "It's not something I'm likely to forget, McAran." He barely managed to avoid turning the last few words into a hiss.  The vehemence laying behind the words startled him and Max fought to regain the equilibrium he'd been feeling just before Andy's last statement, studiously looking elsewhere in order to avoid the other man's gaze.  "Val and I settled it.  Why isn't that good enough?"

"It might be. But it happened fast and you settled it fast.”   Andy stopped before he and Max came closer to the house. “If nothing else, make sure you have it settled enough for you for the sake of your relationship with Tree. You didn’t do anything wrong, Max,” he added and reached out a hand to gently grasp Max’s shoulder before letting go and dropping his hand back to his side. “We aren’t just concerned about Val. We care about you too

Max could still feel the warmth of Andy’s hand on his skin through his shirt. He was so tired, so very tired, on every level. His words to Andy were true. What had happened in New Orleans wasn’t something he was likely to ever forget. But even as those words came back to him, he started to wonder if not being able to do so meant that the rape would always feel like it did now, like something hiding in the dark and waiting to come out and strike at any moment Max let down his guard. If he was like this now, what _did_ that mean for him and Tree? He loved her. He knew that. He was starting to think there might be something more for them down the line but he wasn’t willfully self-blind enough to think his experiences before Val hadn’t colored his perceptions of himself and the world at large. If he didn’t do something about this, would it hurt him and Tree? The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her in any way – knowing or unknowing.

Max glanced down at his arms. Even the pink, newly healed skin he’d seen in New Orleans was nearly gone, leaving his arms looking unmarked. But he could still see in his mind’s eye the deep furrows Val had carved into his flesh.  Val had done that.  Val had also...done the other.  Brought to the surface, he could feel the memory there, waiting to take hold, and he fought to battle it back down, staring at the house in front of him until he thought he'd accomplished that before he chanced a look at Andy’s face.

"What...does she know?" he asked, wanting more than anything to change the look of compassion in the other man's eyes, to be left alone.

"Nothing,” Andy assured him. “Not the details.  Not the circumstances. You don't even have to discuss the rape itself. You would be talking to her anyway at some point. Almost everyone who works with the Pillars does."

"I do it once and you guys will drop it?  You won't bug me about talking to Savill again?"

"I won't bring it up," Andy said, "unless you want to. But you have to promise that if you feel the need to continue talking to her, you will. Don't just let this stuff slide, Max.  It doesn't help you or anyone else."

Max sighed.  "Conditions already, Andy?" he tried his usual grin but it felt stretched and plastic on his face.  "All right," he agreed.  "When?"

"Whenever you like. She runs a coffee shop near Adam.  Lives above it. We can set a time later this week and I'll give you a lift."

They rejoined the tour of the house and watched as Val and Tevis inspected the rooms and the small deck. Tevis gave their approval and they turned back towards Jan’s apartment. By that time, Andy had mercifully let the subject drop -- at least in Max's viewpoint. 

Back upstairs in Jan’s apartment, Tevis, Pete, Andy and Jan grouped together to begin discussing moving into the house. Max leaned against the wall as much to watch as to stay out of Andy’s line of fire. Val caught his eye not by his presence but by the nervous energy of it. The Val that Max had known before was calm and sure of himself. This one seemed nervous and insecure, his foot tapping out a staccato beat for a few minutes before Val got up and moved over to the kitchen. He pulled himself up to sit on the counter and his heels drummed softly against the cabinet doors below.

"Did you call my...you call home? Let 'em know you’re back?" he asked quietly

"Haven't even picked up the phone yet, Val," Max answered.  "Got up and went straight to work.  I told you I wouldn't tell them anything until you decided."

"That's not what I meant. I'm sure they were a little worried is all," Val said.

“I’ll call,” Max assured him. He looked over at the group gathered in the living room to see Jan watching them with a thoughtful expression on his face.

When the particulars of the move were finished, Tevis seemed more at ease, even laughing with Pete a few times over something and he didn't lose his smile when he came to stand near Val. "Andrew has offered to take us to dinner, cher,” he said. "You can show me some of your home, yes?"

"Sure," Val said with a faint smile. "It's a nice town. You'll like it here," he said. "We'll get Andrew to take you to Bridgetown Grill which is about as close to Jamaican food as you’re likely to get."

"Want to join us Max?" Andrew asked. "I'm buying."

Max’s immediate answer was stopped by the look on Val's face. The dark-eyed gaze dropped quickly but there was fear there and something else Max couldn't identify.

It bothered Max but he couldn't put a finger on it as to why it did.  Was Val suddenly afraid of him?  It was on the tip of his tongue to decline the invitation but he paused and looked at Tevis. Max could see where a dinner with a nearly silent and expressionless Val could be a little taxing on the other parties involved. "Sure," he said.  "Let me shower first and make a phone call?"

"It's all right, Max."  Andy had that glint in his eye again.  "She can't see you over the phone."

"Yeah, but I can smell me," Max replied.  "So let me clean up and call my girlfriend for a couple minutes, huh?"   _Hah.  Got it out there before you could use it, Andy_ , he congratulated himself before being momentarily cowed that he himself had used the term.  "I'll meet you in the parking lot," he said, quickly excusing himself.

Back at his room, Max quickly showered and changed before calling the Everetts.  He talked to Hugh for a few minutes to find out what jobs were coming up and if he needed Max's assistance on them.  Hugh assured Max he was always welcome to place himself on the crew, then slyly noted that someone was standing by the phone and waiting rather impatiently for a turn. Tree was on the line a moment later and they talked for several minutes. She seemed disappointed when he told her that he wouldn't be able to make it by tonight but Max promised to try and make it over tomorrow.

When he got down to the parking lot, he could see Val and Tevis in the car while Andy was making a production of looking at his watch as soon as he saw Max.  "Don't even start with me, McAran," Max warned. “Or I’m going to think all this stuff you’d told me is a line of bullshit and MATADA is really a dating service.”

"I just hope it was a lovely conversation," was all Andy said and Max was astounded at how the man could pack so much smugness into one sentence. The drive to dinner was quiet.  Andy made some conversation and Max and Tevis did their parts but Val stayed silent in the backseat.  Max asked Tevis about Jamaica and was treated to colorful descriptions of the place and the people, the black man's face animated as he talked of his homeland.

Bridgetown Grill turned out to be a narrow shop front wedged between two other stores and about four doors down from Lattice with spicy food and cold beer. Tevis pronounced it not too far from the originals he remembered. Val contributed answers to questions directed at him but initiated nothing. Twice he got up, claiming the smell of the food was making him a little nauseated. He was only gone long enough to step outside and take a breather but he seemed more than ready to leave when they were done and Andy paid the check.

Little Five Points was alive with people and music spilling out of the restaurants and pubs. Celtic music soared out of the Mystic Cafe along with the aroma of coffee and steamed milk and other tantalizing scents guaranteed to please and add pounds.

"Latte," Andrew said decisively, veering toward the open door and grinned at Max. "You can meet Savill – no pressure," he said. He held the door open for Val and Tevis as they walked in and looked at Max.

 _No pressure_ , Max repeated to himself and ducked inside.

The music seemed less loud inside than out and the place itself was comfortable and welcoming. A huge wooden bar fronted the immediate interior with a dining area to the left and more booths stretching back across from the bar to the kitchen. A staircase led upward between the two areas with subtly lit artwork hanging from the walls. Wooden shelves showed off an impressive array of antique and lovely crystal balls of all types and each of the booths in the front also sported a crystal ball although they were more for fun than anything else -- lit up from within and looking like sparkly, subdued lava-lamps. The effect was whimsical and eclectic and said the owner didn’t take things too seriously.

Andrew grabbed a seat at the bar and eyed the oldest and tallest of the three people working behind it. Her salt and pepper hair was braided into a thick rope that fell to her lower back. She had a definite Native American cast to her bronzed skin and her brown eyes, as she turned to greet them, were warm and welcoming. She could have been as young as forty or older than sixty. She greeted Andrew and asked one of the other baristas to begin making his usual.

Early in the week for a night on the town," she said in a low musical voice that seemed to break through the noise and hubbub of the active shop.

"Just a little dinner," Andrew said. "Savill, this is Max, Tevis and Val. Newcomer, newcomer, native," he explained with a grin, pointing at each man in turn.

"Transplant," she identified herself with a smile. "Like Andrew. Welcome to the Mystic, gentlemen. What can I get for you?"

Andrew and Tevis placed their orders and Max requested plain, black coffee. He watched as Savill moved between the other three.  Max wasn't the type to be immediately comfortable with strangers; Val had been a rare exception. Still, there was something about the steady, measured way she moved and the calmness that seemed to envelop her that made him relax bit by bit.

She glanced at Val. "A moment," she said and gave their orders to one of her servers before disappearing into the back. She returned with a mug which she set in front of Val. "No nourishment but I think you will find it...palatable," she said softly, eyes crinkling as she smiled.

Hesitantly Val tasted what looked like a cup of very dark tea, bracing himself against the violent reaction he had to food and drink in general. But the liquid was not hot as he’d expected. It was body temperature at best and strangely thick even though it moved in the cup like colored water.

A more generous but still cautious sip prompted no illness either and he looked at her in surprise, showing more interest in her than anything else the entire evening.

"It's an herbal mixture developed especially for anemics," Savill informed him with a small laugh. "Ask for 'gaella' when you come again."

Val thanked her and sipped at his tea, as astonished by its palatability as anything in his life. It was warm and he had to smile at the sensation that spread through him.

Savill turned her attention back to Max and Andrew while Val offered Tevis a sip of his drink. "So, Max. I've been looking forward to meeting you. Andrew has been on about Max this and Max that for weeks. Nice to finally meet you," she said, sliding their cups at them.

"You been spreading rumors about me, Andy?" Max asked.  He was mostly kidding.  While still not looking forward to talking to Savil, the prospect didn't seem quite so daunting now that he'd met her.

"Of course. Fresh meat..." Andy teased him.

Savill punched at Andrew's arm playfully and gave his cheek a little harder pat. "Only that Pete finally had an assistant worth his paycheck along with the statement that your move to Atlanta was rather sudden." she said. "I have to admit to being terribly interested in gossip but put little real faith in rumor."

"Not much gossip to spread anyway," Max replied, looking back at Savill.  "I was from New Jersey, then New Orleans and now...I'm here.  And," he said with a small smile into his cup, "here is not too damn bad."  He looked up to see Savill gazing as if she was studying him, waiting for something.  A quick, sidelong glance told him Val and Tevis were talking quietly to each other.  "Andy says I should talk to you,” he quickly stuttered.

One dark eyebrow rose like a bird's wing but her smile was as generous as before. "Ah, so he's been recruiting again, I see. Well, it is true that I generally speak to most people who seem determined to be party to our little social dance. Andrew has a gift. I mostly talk to talents...or the troubled," she said softly and Max was well aware that her voice had dropped what seemed like an octave and a couple of decibels as well. In fact it vaguely reminded him of the odd but not threatening cant of Adam's voice when he spoke to Madeleine. "Something specific... or questions about MATADA and the Pillars?"

He forced himself to meet her gaze.  "About...things."  Max tilted his cup, watching the dregs swirl in the bottom and letting his natural reticence begin to take over again.

"I think that can be arranged," she said and glanced at Andrew, who shrugged. "How about if I come to MATADA tomorrow around lunch?”

"Whenever."  He’d said he would do it. Now if everyone would just shut up and leave him alone about it? That would be grand. A hand appeared in his field of vision, pushing the cup gently down onto the counter, and he jerked his head up to see Savill looking at him again.

"Max." Her voice was soft and the brown-eyed gaze exuded nothing but faint amusement and interest. He couldn’t see or hear anything that sounded like pity or judgment; not even curiosity. What he felt was an overwhelming calm smoothing down the ragged edges of his own thoughts. "If you like, you need not talk at all. Andrew can assure you that I am perfectly capable of holding up entire conversations, if not debates, with myself alone. But I do love an audience.” She switched her gaze to Andy. “Take him home, Andrew. He's exhausted.” Savill motioned to Max’s cup. “And that is decaf.” Giving him and Andy one last smile, she said. “Noon tomorrow, then. I’ll bring lunch.” With that, she pushed her braid over her shoulder and headed down to the end of the bar to tend to other customers.

"So sayeth the Queen," Andrew intoned and snatched at a lid for his cup. "Come along, children."

They split up outside with Tevis and Val saying they would walk to Adam’s house which was only a few blocks away. Max noted that Val seemed uneasy again. "If you see my folks..." he began, then hesitated before finally saying, “just tell them I said hi." Tevis thanked Andrew for dinner and said goodnight to Max.

"Maybe Savill should talk to Val as well,” Andrew commented as he and Max turned back to head for Andrew's car.

"According to Savill, she could hold an entire conversation and Val wouldn't need to say word one - which wouldn't be much different than tonight," Max noted as they walked.  "I don't even know what to say to him.  It's like he's not the Val I remember, the one always in control, y'know?"

"And now he's not," Andy reminded him as they drew abreast to the car and Max walked over to the passenger side.  "Like you, he left New Orleans very quickly.  However, you had the option of leaving under your own power; you made your decision.  Val's was made for him without any input from him and that's not something he's used to.  Now he's here and feels responsible for Tevis as well.  Not to mention he still has no idea what to do about his family."

"But Tevis seems to be doing pretty good if you think about it," Max answered.  Andy climbed in and unlocked the passenger door so Max slid in before he continued.  "I don't think I've ever seen him as...alive as he is now.  The few times I saw him in the Quarter, he was always so removed. Couple times I thought he was more like a wax figure than a person."

"May have been the bond.  I'm not quite sure how it works - subverts the will or maybe the personality. He can't have been like that all the time since I can't quite see Val falling so hard for a dishrag." Andrew started the car and pulled away, heading east toward Stone Mountain.

Whether Andy would have continued speaking or not, Max never knew.  The next time he opened his eyes, they were back at MATADA.  "C'mon, Sleeping Beauty," Andy said.  "You're way too big for me to carry you to bed, Max."

He struggled towards wakefulness and an upright position.  "No problem. You're not exactly the vision I want to take with me into sleep, Andy."  Max got out of the car and stood for a moment, staring dumbly at Andy, before he remembered that he was back at MATADA and needed to go to sleep. "I'll see you later."

"Savill," Andy reminded him.  "Lunch."

Max groaned.  "I know.  I know.  I promised."  He watched Andy leave and went upstairs to bed.

The next morning was a repeat of yesterday.  Max installed himself back in the shop to complete the work assignment Pete had given him yesterday.  Now that people knew he was back, he returned to the role of Pete's assistant and spent part of the morning fielding questions or helping others.  Before he knew it, it was coming up on noon and Savill's appearance.

Stepping out of the shop, he blinked into the bright sunlight and saw her. She nodded and lifted her hand in greeting and he waved back half-heartedly, still wondering if there was some way out of this that didn’t involve _talking_. As she came nearer, Max found that same odd sense of calm coming over him that he’d briefly experienced in the Mystic. It didn’t entirely remove the urge to try and claim he’d taken a vow of silence but it did allow him to square his shoulders and take in a slow, deep breath. He’d survived worse, right?

"Good afternoon, Max," Savill greeted him in that voice that didn't seem to rise much beyond an intimate level but still carried across the distance between them.  He returned the greeting and thought he managed to sound friendly and…normal. He grabbed at the hem of his T-shirt and used it to wipe some sweat from his eyes. When he looked back up, wiping the sweat from his eyes with the hem of his T-shirt.  She was standing in front of him when he looked up. “So…you’re a ninja, too?”

She smiled. “When I need to be.”   She stood there, appearing completely calm and unruffled and Max had the sneaking suspicion that she could do that as long as she wanted – like some kind of Zen game of chicken.

He’d give her the win. "I'd invite you in the shop but we've got stuff spread out everywhere and it's kinda noisy," he apologized.  "Anywhere else?"

"Al fresco, I think," she said gesturing at the open expanse of grass between the complex and the houses.  She led Max to her car and pulled out a soft bag and a blanket before handing Max a small cooler to carry as they walked..

"You lead, I follow," he agreed.  An amused smile lit her face briefly before Savill turned and Max fell in beside her.  She didn't say anything and Max found he didn't feel the need to talk to just fill up what should, for him, have been an awkward silence.  It was a bright but not overly warm day and the quiet Savill exuded seemed to follow her, only broken by the sound of other MATADA employees going about their business.  "How long have you lived in Atlanta?" Max asked.

She spread the blanket and unpacked the bag while she spoke. “Nearly thirty years,” she said as she set down the food. “Came out of North Carolina when my husband was transferred. When he was transferred again two years later, I stayed. I like it here and my family still lives in Cherokee. How about you?"

"About two months.  I think this is where I'll probably land, though. It has a lot to recommend it."

"Couldn't agree more," she said and let Max fix his own plate. The cooler revealed a couple of sodas along with some juice and beer. Savill twisted the top off a White Rock as she continued speaking. "Get Pete to take you down to the Okeefenokee sometime. He camps there at least once a year."

"Okeefenokee?" Max echoed.  "I think I'll pass.  The only place alligators should be seen is in fine footwear."

"So what do you like about Atlanta so far?”

The old saw about previous experience as a waiter came into Max’s mind. He was pretty sure Savill had waited until his mouth was full before she’d asked. He swallowed the bite of chicken salad and answered. "Beyond MATADA, Lattice and Val's family, not much."  He shrugged.  "Then again, there hasn't been a lot of down time."

"I will reprimand Andrew. He is usually a better tour guide than this," she said. "Or maybe I should scold Valentine. That might be a bit harsh, though, since most of Atlanta is best seen in daylight."

"Did you know Val before he left for New Orleans?"

"No, I met him the first time last night. I'd heard Andrew mention him five or six years back. One of his lost lambs that he never could quite lead home."

"You make Andy sound like that guy from that Spencer Tracy movie."  Max snapped his fingers and tried to think of the name of the character. _Father...Flanagan, was it?_   “'There are no bad boys'," he recited. "Flanagan was a bit naive."

"Andrew has a rather unique view of the world,” Savill said. “He was raised with foster brothers and sisters their whole lives. When he started to display his gifts, his father contacted Evan and Andy spent most summers training with him so he’s been exposed to much more of the mundane and esoteric than most people. But he remembers the children his parents helped raise and he knows that not all of them were good. Still, it gave him the desire…sometimes the need to go after the ones he thinks he can help. Like Valentine.” She sipped her beer. “And like you.”

Max didn’t know what to say to that so he decided taking another bite of chicken salad was his best option. As he chewed, Savill asked, “What about your family?”

 _Definitely a waiter in a previous life_. “None really to talk about,” he said shortly. He received a raised eyebrow in response and that odd, calm silence stretched out between them again. “My dad died when I was five,” Max finally said. “My mom disappeared – split town, I guess – when I was about eight and spent most of my life in the care of the state of New Jersey.” _You're running off at the mouth, Griffin,_ he cautioned himself.   _Savill's just sitting here, barely said anything and you're talking.  Knock it off._

She nodded in response. "Jan has a much similar experience to yours. I find it hard to imagine not having a family of some sort even if it’s one I've made."

"Can't miss what you don't have," he told Savill.  "I left…ran away, really, when I was about sixteen. New Jersey wanted to introduce me to long-term care in the penal system and I decided that wasn’t in my best interests. Haven’t been back since even when I was working traveling carnivals.”

Max stopped and took a drink from the soda can he’d opened while talking.  "I don't know what it is about you guys that makes me talk so much about stuff like this. Y’all got some kind of conversational voodoo?” He meant it as a joke – mostly – but MATADA was just weird enough with the things he’d seen that he wouldn’t put it past them.

He carefully watched Savill as she seemed to consider an answer. She looked relaxed, one hand curled lightly around her bottle of beer. It was like she had all the time in the world for him. The more he watched her, the more Max got the idea that Savill used words carefully. It wasn’t with any ulterior motive, though. Instead, it was like she was picking exactly what words she wanted in order to ensure clarity as well as safety. There was nothing in what she said or in her demeanor that made Max feel like he _had_ to answer her. There was nothing of Jan’s type of examination in what Max had told him. Savill’s peculiar sense of calm had an almost benign power to it that made Max want to talk to her. It was more like what he told her would be held safe between them and no one else would know about it unless he gave her permission to tell them.

Val had once stated early in their friendship that Max wasn’t so much an economist with his words as he was a downright miser. Max had merely shrugged in response which made Val roll his eyes and point out how Max had just proved Val’s point right there.

"No conversational voodoo.” Savill chuckled. “Perhaps because we bother to listen? It can be a rare talent since it requires both patience and practice.” She helped herself to some grapes and passed the bunch to Max. “So you left New Jersey and then what? I had the impression from Andy that you’d been a bit of a wanderer.”

"Worked traveling carnivals until that went belly up in a big way,” Max said bitterly. He reached over and began pulling blades of grass up one by one. “Went to New Orleans. Met Val. Came here. Stayed here."

"Staying here?" she asked quietly and plucked a few blades of grass herself, working them with her fingers as she talked. "You don't have to answer that. I know why I have stayed. Why Andrew stays and Adam as well. Just make sure you know why you are staying," she commented.

“Right now, yes,” he answered. “I think there are reasons – good ones.” He kept his gaze centered on the small pile of grass blades building by his right knee. “It started with the idea of being legit; that maybe going for the brass ring was going to do something other than give me a concussion. Have a job I like a lot better than my old one. Maybe some friends. Maybe a girlfriend. Maybe…maybe more.”

"There are worse ways to spend your life, Max. Less demanding ways to spend it as well," she said quietly. She extended her arm and showed him a tiny, perfectly woven basket complete with a handle in the palm of her hand. "Dream basket," she said and offered it to him.

He let her lay it in his outstretched palm and looked at it for a moment before closing his fist over it.  "Maybe some dreams shouldn’t be," he said and opened his fist to let the bruised grass fall to the ground between them. "Like all that stuff I just mentioned."

“Shouldn’t be or the risk seems too great?” she asked as she picked up the grass and began to work it gently between her fingers. “How many angels fit on the head of a pin?"

The oddness of the phrase brought Max up short and he raised his head to see her reworking the basket. “Lost me there,” he said shortly.

“It was somewhat of a rhetorical question,” she said as her fingers turned the mouth of the basket around and around. “But not if you’ve already decided the answer.”

Max brushed the pile of grass blades away and put his elbows on his knees and rested his head in his hands. “I feel like I need subtitles.”

There was a whisper of sound from Savill that could have been a breath of laughter, then she spoke. “Did you have the things you spoke of before and fear you don’t have them now? If so, what has changed?”

“Me.” As soon as he spoke, Max wished he could yank that word back and swallow it. Everything he’d done since leaving New Orleans was about change but it had been changes for be had sooner or later. The changes wrought by his return to New Orleans weren’t ones Max understood and he wasn’t sure he really wanted to, either.

When Andy had asked Max if what Val did had changed him, he had interpreted the question as relating to his sexual orientation and answered no. But left alone with own thoughts on the trip back to Georgia and again during the workday, he’d started to wonder if maybe it had somehow. He didn’t regret what he’d done afterwards in the least but the before…the helplessness and the violence; he couldn’t believe the rape hadn’t left some mark that everyone could see. He’d found himself analyzing his interactions with Pete and Savill to see if he could figure out how much they knew.

And if they did, then who was to say Hugh or Isabel or Tree might not be able to see? A glance down at his arms showed they were still unmarked but Max could see the open wounds, feel the slippery blood wind down his skin and smell the harsh iron scent of it. He only had to close his eyes to be enveloped in the pain and fear once again and imagined it hanging about him like a shroud. Would Tree still want him once she saw the damage?

He looked up to see Savill calmly watching him. “I don’t…want to be,” he said finally. “Changed.”

“Sometimes change happens without our choice and sometimes our choices bring about changes we didn’t expect,” Savill said. Her hands continued to shape the basket. “People are capable of either great strength or great weakness. They can bear up under enormous damage or fold under the lightest pressure...and the same person can exhibit both at different time. I would imagine both you and Valentine to be familiar with that concept.”

 _And there it is._ The lunch Max had eaten rolled over in his stomach. Whatever calming presence he might have gleaned from Savill disappeared under a wave of nausea and an intense desire to get up and run far away from Savill, from MATADA and even out of Atlanta if he could manage it.

“What kind of relationship did the two of you have before it changed?” she asked.

Max sat there and tried to remember how to breathe. As he did, he heard a low sound and realized Savill was humming a soft tune. The silence between them stretched out with Savill’s humming the only sound and Max could feel his nausea and fear starting to slowly recede ever so slightly – just enough that maybe answering her question would be okay.

"We were Batman and Robin in New Orleans; take on all comers.  I promised not to die so he would talk to his father and he held me over a building. Pretty much your average male bonding stuff."  Max quirked his mouth in a half-smile. “We came here to just spend a weekend and I ended up staying. Hoped he would – our side of New Orleans is pretty much a pit – but he went back because of Tevis.”

"He must love him very much," Savill said quietly, glancing up at the apartment perched on top of MATADA.

“Guess so,” Max agreed. “When he disappeared, I wanted to help find him. He’s my best friend, right?”  As he talked, Max's body posture altered.  He drew up his legs and hooked his arms around his knees.  "We found him...and everything changed."

"Everything or just Val?"

 _Son of a motherfucking bitch!_ Max didn’t know why but the question touched off something in him, tapping directly into the uncertainty, the fear and anger, the desire to be left alone, and the conflicting feelings about both Val and Tree and what they meant to him.

“Val raped me,” he snapped. “Now I’m sitting here _talking_ to you about it so I don’t suddenly ‘wake up a month or a year from now and remember my best friend assaulted me’.” He found himself having to take a deep breath against the tight feeling in his chest and he clenched his fists against the sudden trembling of his hands. “What do they think? That I’ve just _forgotten_ about it?” Reaching over, Max plucked the reworked basket out of Savill’s fingers and tore it in half. He opened his hands and let the blades of grass fall to the ground.

Silence stretched between them again, constricting and uncomfortable to Max. He felt like his skin was stretched too tightly over his bones. Any sudden movement would cause it to tear in two.

"Are you trying to?" Savill asked as she swept loose grass from the knee of her jeans.

Max shrugged. He felt embarrassed about his display of temper. "Val and I worked it out,” he muttered. “Why can't people just let it go at that? It happened.  It's over."  Better to put it in that little box.  Much less terrifying than having to bring it out into the daylight.

"Is it? Or is just the rape over?" Savill asked. "If it were over, if you had worked it out, you wouldn't be wondering if there was a friendship you wanted to save. I think you understand the reasons behind the act. But forgiveness…forgetting and accepting. Is that what you’ve truly found? What either of you has found?

“I’m not…I don’t know,’ Max admitted with a slow sigh. “It was like we managed to get back a little of what we had. We weren’t exactly Batman and Robin but it was…recognizable, y’know? Then I went out with him and Tevis and Andy for dinner and Val looked at me like he…like he was afraid of me. I don’t like that. I don’t know what to do about it.” _Or if I want to._

"Friendships, like people, can be very fragile and sometimes it seems like there is nothing left.” She calmly plucked several grapes from the bunch and ate them before continuing. “But all the components are still there and it may only take a little coaxing to bring them back, make them work again. It may not be the same but it can still work."

“You sure?” Max asked. He wanted to believe Savill but past experience had been a brutal teacher. “Everything seems totally out of whack right now. I thought we had some middle ground, maybe, but now I’m questioning it all over again.”

He snorted in chagrin. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to say to you or to Val or anyone. I walked on rooftops, for fuck’s sake, to convince myself I’m fine and that I’ve mastered my fear of heights. But every time I do it, I can feel my heart pound and I get sick to my stomach. But I keep telling myself to do it and every time after I do it, I tell myself I’ve beaten it back one more time. But I test and I keep testing.”

"To prove to yourself you aren't afraid or to prove to yourself you still are?"    

He looked away and stared up into the sky.  "Because even though I knew I could do it, the fear was still there. I hate being afraid."

"Everyone handles their fears differently,” she told him. “All of us. But we go on and do what we feel we need to do, love the people we do anyway. Not in spite of the fear but with it."

She touched his knee and waited until Max looked at her. "Valentine knows you are afraid of him. Now you know he is afraid of you. He is afraid of having you as his friend and afraid of losing you. He raped you, yes. He took something away from you that you were not ready to offer. But you did offer it later. Now you have the choice whether or not to take away something you have previously offered – your presence, your friendship, your acceptance and love. There are no rules or right or wrong about who we love or don't love or why. It is part of who we are and why we are created. We keep our own balances and your fear is part of that balance as well. Does that make sense?"

Max nodded. “Yeah. I listened to all my fears once before.  In the hospital.  It wasn't until Val came along that a balance even started and that was eight years later.  I don't have eight years here and if I let this stretch on, I might not even have eight days."  He sighed again. “So what do I do?”

She smiled at him. "You take your fear with you.  Don't set it aside. He knows it is there. Take it with you and your love. They do not cancel each other out. You gave him your trust when you let him take in love what he had previously taken in violence.” She patted his foot. “There is a saying, and I will paraphrase it badly, but it says that if those who have lost faith act like they have it, then their faith will return.

I think, Max, that it is not a fear of Valentine that you are fighting. I think it is the fear of  being afraid."

Max knew she was right.  He had managed to dodge emotion for so long that any emotional response was enough to send him reeling, looking for something that would help shove the feeling back where it came from.  Val, fortunately or unfortunately depending on Max's view at any given time, had managed to yank the other man out of emotional hibernation which meant Max now had to learn how to handle responses to things that hadn't fazed him in years - or more correctly that he hadn't let or admitted fazed him.  Heights had been about the only thing that would make him afraid and, while he walked ledges to beat back that fear, it had also been the only thing that had at times, assured him he was still alive. 

"Just think about what I have said,” Savill said as she began gathering up the detritus of their meal. “See him, talk to him if you can. He does not have the freedom of choice as you do, Max. He will remain a vampire until he ceases to exist.  He cannot change what or who he is. You can. You have already. So perhaps you can make some choices for him and with him.”

She held out a hand and Max stared at it a moment before belatedly jumping to his feet and helping Savill to hers. "I have to get back to work but if you need or want to talk again, you know where I am and they all have my phone number."

"Savill," he said as they walked back toward the parking lot. "Can I ask you something? Personal?"

She nodded, a smile twitching at her lips. "I think it is about time."

"What are you afraid of?"

She stopped and looked at him before leaning over and kissing his cheek. "My gift is Voice - and I am constantly afraid that I will say the wrong thing," she said into his ear. Her voice was barely a whisper but yet he could feel her fear in the timbre of her words like a shiver across his skin. Yet when he looked at her she had the same calm, content expression in her brown eyes and on her face, the smile still in place.

Max saw her into her car and watched her drive away before heading back inside.

He spent the rest of the afternoon back with the working as he thought.  There were no great flashes of inspiration but Max thought he had the beginnings of a plan by quitting time. While he was putting away his tools, he saw Pete and asked if the other man could drop him off at Adam’s.

Pete, asking if the other man could drop him off at Adam's while Pete ran his errands.

"Sure," Pete agreed.  "You need a ride back?"

"Don't know," Max told him.  "I'll either hoof it back or maybe Hugh and Isabel will put me up for a night.  Either way."  Pete seemed disinclined to ask any of the particulars and Max was standing in front of Adam's house a short time later.  Setting his shoulders, he went up the short walk and knocked on the front door.

Phyllida Johnston opened the door. "Hi, Max." She was nearly a foot shorter than Max and her blonde hair and green eyes contributed to an elfin appearance. But a second look at the arms exposed under the blue tank top showed off a hefty set of muscles and her small hands showed the scars and scrapes from her work as an old fashioned blacksmith.

“Hi.”

She opened the door wider to admit him and he smiled his thanks as he stepped inside. "Adam's at the store but he should be home soon. Come on in."

Max followed her into the kitchen where he saw Tevis busily entertaining Adam and Phyl's eighteen-month-old daughter Kira Lyn, who raised her Mickey Mouse spoon in greeting. Kira Lyn had her father's features in a more delicate form and her mother's green eyes. Beside her was Jason, the couple's six-year-old son who looked like his father, Phyl's first husband. "You want something to eat?" she asked him.

"Beener Weeners!!" Jason announced with great enthusiasm and his sister chirruped an echo.

"Thanks, kiddo, but I'll pass," Max told the boy.  He could recall the queasy feeling from eating them straight out of the can for several days in a row right after he'd removed himself from the concerns of the New Jersey Department of Human Services and before he'd found a job.  "But I'll show you a trick if you want."  Jason enthusiastically shouted a yes so Max looked at Phyl, who gave him a quizzical nod, not quite sure what he had in mind. 

Reaching over, Max took the two apples next to the children's plates and set them in a row in front of him along with two others from a bowl on the table.  Casually, he picked up the first two and began throwing them in an easy one over the other motion.  Then, while both apples were still in the air, he snatched the third off the table and added it to the rotation. Jason and Kira Lyn watched, food forgotten, and baked bean juice dribbling down Kira's chin.  When Max had all three apples going the way he wanted, he picked up the last one and added it to the rotation.  He idly continued for a few minutes more, then slowed the rotations down, catching the apples and setting them on the table one by one.  The last one he threw in the air, stepped back a pace and caught it behind his back.  "Enjoy dessert," he grinned.

"Show me how!" Jason demanded.

"After you eat, kid," Max pretended to threaten.  Turning, he saw Phyl and Tevis watching him.  "It was...something another carny taught me.  He thought it would help with my hand and it's kept me in food over the years when things got a bit tight.  Bet a guy one night at Taco Bell that he'd give me my food free if I could juggle three burritos."

"And did you win?" Phyl asked.

He pulled a half-smile at the memory.  "I had to.  Didn't have any money to pay for 'em.  Good thing I wasn't in the mood for tacos, though.  Would've been a disaster." 

Max looked over at Tevis.  "Hey, cher.  How you findin' living in the daylight?"

Tevis smiled faintly. "Not so different. The city is changed, but I am much the same."

"Val around?" Max asked.

"He is still ...asleep," Tevis said carefully because of the children.

"Would you take me to him?"  Max asked.  "There are some things I need to say.  It'll be up to him if he wants to hear them."

Tevis traded places with Phyl and led Max toward the back of the house to a doorway located under the second story stairwell. A light switch illuminated the narrow stairs to the basement, and a laundry room, a second door opened into the finished part of the basement, built as a sort of rec room. Shelves and a stereo system took up one wall and a large pool table took up part of the room, covered now to protect the felt and bags with clothes spread across it. A sofa bed was opened on the far wall and its single occupant curled on his side with a quilt pulled up around him. Val looked incongruously small and young in his coma state. 

 _Okay. What did Savill say? Take it with you._   Well, that wasn't a problem, Max thought wryly.  He exhaled slowly _.  “It's there.  You know it is and you know it may very well never go completely away the way you'd like it to.  So suck it up and move on._ “Tevis," he said.  "I'd like to wait down here for Val to wake up.  By myself.  I don't have anything anti-vampire in my mind at all.  Like I said, I think he and I need to talk."

"Then why do you ask me?"

 _Good question._   "Because..."  Max couldn't think of any way to get it to come out as he meant.  "Because...you and I both love him but...I think he's more...yours than mine in some ways and I wanted to...I thought it was only fair I ask," he finished. "Things... changed in New Orleans and I'm not sure if I'm stepping on toes or even if there's a need for me to be concerned about that."

Tevis studied Max for a long moment and Max could swear the other man never blinked. "If you can get him to talk, I would have no quarrel with that. As to whether he is more mine than yours..." He glanced back at his lover, the impassivity on his face fading into something far more emotional, softer and possessive all at once. "I would not be too sure, Max. He says he is mine as well and I am not jealous of you. You do not offer him what is between him and me.”

He turned his gaze back to Max. “But were you to do so, I think he would tear himself apart trying to decide. It was not his refusal to discuss  _me_  that made Madeleine so angry with him. It is not _me_ he has introduced his family to but it is me he comes back to when he feels no one else will have him." There was anger in Tevis’ voice but he appeared controlled, almost eerily calm. "As long as that continues, we have no problems."

He nodded as if deciding something and then turned away to go back upstairs. He paused with one foot on the stairs. "I would apologize for what was done to you, cher, save for one thing. Before you were his friend but did not know him. Now you do. If you can still be his friend then I may express my regrets. If not, then I feel you got what you deserved for putting him in such a position with both Madeleine and Crispin. Had you not had your friends been with you when you visited Maddy in New Orleans, I might have killed you myself."

Max said nothing at first and made sure to look Tevis in the eye. It was a tactic he’d learned long ago when any gesture that could be construed as fear needed to be avoided at all costs. “If I’d told him not to leave Atlanta, he would have anyway. That’s down to you and it’s because he loves you or you’ve fucking got him convinced he does; one of the two, anyway. I’ll go so far to say it’s genuine on your part even though I had my doubts back in New Orleans. And for what you did to us there, don’t think I haven’t had some thoughts about your exit from this world,” Max said softly but firmly. “So I think we’re even on wishing death on each other.”

"I know he loves me,” Tevis replied in the same tones. “And you.” He shook his head and the tiny beads braided in his hair clicked against each other. “But there is also gratitude in him to both of us for not rejecting him because of what he is. I know it is there and I hope it is only part of what he feels for me…or you. He hates himself therefore why should anyone love him? If you can help convince him otherwise, then perhaps you and I can be friends."

“I’ll make a note.” Both of them stared at each other until Tevis gave Max another short nod and went slowly back up the stairs and shut the door behind him. There was a lamp on near the bed and the ambient light gave Max enough light to see. He’d planned to just sit and wait for Val to wake up but that didn’t feel like the right thing to do anymore. Instead, he made his way carefully over to the bed and managed to stretch himself out around Val, one arm over him like they'd slept in Jan's apartment that night, and waited. 


	23. Blood is Thicker

A stirring and a sleepy voice asking for Tevis woke him up.

He felt Val shift against him. "Well, I'm disappointed that I'm not the first thing on your mind, cher.”

"Uh...well, didn't exactly expect you," Val mumbled. He usually came alive alert and aware but the last few days it seemed death had been reluctant to let him go even when the sun set. Only Tevis' close physical proximity had managed to keep him from screaming out his defiance as he woke. Max had the same effect and Val idly wondered if other vampires felt the same way and then decided he'd probably never know now. He was apparently destined to be the world's first developmentally disabled vampire.

"What are you doing here?" he asked. A thought struck him and Val wrenched himself out of Max’s arms, sitting up. "My folks? Something's happened?"

"No," Max reassured him from his prone position. "Your folks are fine."

The panic subsided – at least the panic regarding his family. His panic about Max was an entirely different matter. "Good. That's good," Val said and moved to the side of the bed. He started to get up, glanced at Max, and reached around to pull at the cotton blanket lying folded at the end of the bed. He wrapped around his body and stood. "Give me a second and I'll get dressed," he said, gathering jeans and a shirt from the pool table and going into the small bathroom.

"Sure," Max said. When Val disappeared into the bathroom, he let out an explosive sigh. Modesty from the vampire was new and yet another indicator of the space they were letting grow between them. Before, Val would no more have covered himself up in front of Max or anyone else than he would have announced his conversion to fundamentalist, right-wing Christianity but it at least gave Max some time to think.

Val emerged a few moments later, dressed in a white T-shirt and jeans and running his fingers through his hair. He still looked like a Calvin Klein ad, but one of those that had sparked such controversy for the drugged-out look of its models. He went over to a small sink and smacked the latch to open the small microwave sitting next to it. "You want something to drink? I have that gaella that Savill offered or Tevis keeps instant coffee here so he won't wake up the house," he offered, filling a mug up with water and slipping it into the microwave.

Val was determined to keep as much distance between him and Max as he could. It would be too easy to fall back into old patterns of casual touching or spontaneous horseplay. The tea would tide him over until Max left and a nip from Tevis would keep him until he could hunt. A couple more days of steady feeding should hopefully take care of the rest. He no more wanted to look in the mirror than he wanted others to look at him. "Things getting back to normal?" he asked trying to fill the silence and was beyond grateful to technology when the microwave pinged and he could occupy his hands and mind slightly.

"Some are," Max said, getting up off the bed to lean on top of the counter so he could see Val's face, watch his expression. "And some aren't."

"Oh, sorry. I'm sorry it's been so...such a tough adjustment," Val murmured, stirring his tea and then setting the spoon carefully in the sink. He sipped at it, seemingly having to concentrate very hard on holding the cup.  "So, what did you want, Max?" he tried for a casual tone.

"You've got me..."  _Breathe in, Griffin. Just say the damn word_. "I’m scared…about us."

"I know," Val said and set the cup down, finally looking up at Max. His face was carefully blank. "I get it. What we...what we did wasn't enough. I knew it when you asked." 

“I think it was part of a…a solution,” Max said. “Just not all of it.”

Val set his cup down and pushed away from the sink. “I know you’re afraid of me.” He nodded quickly, decisively. After all, that was how it should be, wasn’t it? “I just don’t know what to do to try and make it better.” He rubbed at his face with his hands and then abruptly turned, going back to the bed and collapsing onto it. After a moment, he sat up, hands linked between his knees and stared at the floor. “Just tell me what you want.”

Max followed him and sat down on the floor next to Val, his back against the bed. Both of them regarded the opposite wall for several minutes before Max spoke. “I don’t want us to lose each other.”

Val looked over at the man he’d been calling his friend. "Maybe...it might be better," he said evenly.

Max forced himself to speak.  "Is that what you want to do?" he asked, trying to ignore the icy feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"No,” Val admitted with a small shake of his head. “It’s not what I want but what might be best.” He slipped onto the floor next to Max. “You are my best friend and my worst nightmare. _Not_ ,” he said emphatically, “because of anything you’ve done but because you will keep coming back, you’ll keep thinking that it’ll be okay until sometime, someday it’s not and I hurt you again. Or worse.”

“I don’t know how to _do_ this,” Val hissed. “And now with Anis’ edict, I can’t even find anyone to show me how to keep control – or if I even can!” He wrapped his arms around his chest and lowered his head to his knees. “I need you, Max. I love you and I don't want to lose you either but better to lose you 'cause you walk away alive and breathing than they carry you away in a body bag." He’d promised himself once before that he’d stop the drama where Max was concerned, stop reaching out for the hand of someone who could make Val think that he wasn’t the irredeemable creature he feared he was becoming bit by bit. But every time he saw Max, those resolutions flew out the window and all he wanted was the reassurance of this friend who could chase away the dark thoughts that crowded Val’s head.

"I don't know if I can do this..." Val said again on a whisper. "It's like living in a fishbowl. I brought Tevis here but what can I offer him? Nobody really wants me here. I picked up Kira the other night and Phyl looked like she was ready to snatch her back - as if I would feed off a baby!" His voice broke. "But the worst is I would if I were hungry enough.”

He kept talking. The words were almost hypnotic, weaving a picture of himself Val saw no hope of escaping. He was only awaiting the inevitable. "Can you blame her? You saw what Adam looked like; what happened to Andy. And you!” Val tilted his head back to stare at the ceiling. “Fuck this! It would almost be worth it to take out some pusher or pimp just to call Evan on his promise."

Val sounded almost hysterical to Max’s ears. If there was one thing he’d learned from his friendship with Val, it was that both he and Val had a tendency to believe the worst about themselves whenever possible – not to mention inconvenient. He’d been able to break Val of the mindset long enough to listen to Max in the past like when Hugh came to New Orleans but that was then and Val hadn’t raped Max then.

The vampire’s epithet of “family counselor” resounded in Max’s ears and part of him really wanted to get up off the basement floor, dust himself off and follow Val’s idea to just leave. Walk back up the stairs, out of the house, and forget that he’d ever known Val or anything about vampires.

But Val had also called Max stubborn – continually – and Max figured that was probably the one and potentially only personality trait keeping him here right now so might as well make the most of it and see what happened.

"Fuck Evan," Max said stonily.  "This ain't about Evan.  It's about you looking for an easy way out so you don't have to deal with this shit along with the rest of us."

"I never said I wasn't a coward," Val said, looking down at his hands. "I never said I wasn't afraid."

“Well, so am I,” Max shot back and felt his stomach tighten at the admission. “But I’m at least sittin’ here doin’ something about it while you’re just trying to throw in the towel. You seem to spend a lot of time telling me how I should be afraid of you and how you’re such an evil, unredeemable monster. Yet Phyl does something that maybe – just fuckin’ _maybe_ , Val – has a hint of that and you’re all set to yank your leash and get yourself taken out.”

"You didn't see her face..." Val whispered.

"No,” Max agreed. “But you’ve seen mine. Over and over as a matter of fact.”

Val's head came up in confusion.

Max’s hands tightened around his knees, fingers digging into the fabric of his jeans in an effort not to make a fist. He forced himself to breathe evenly. “You coulda let me fall from that roof. You didn’t. So what makes you so special that you get to jump and none of us try to catch you?" Max asked quietly.  "You didn't know a damn thing about me. You coulda let me drop - but you didn't."

"Do you ever listen to anything I say?” Val’s tone was emphatic but a little less strident than a few moments ago. “I don't care about strangers and they don't care about me. Once in awhile you help somebody out but you don't fucking hurl yourself in front of a speeding train, you idiot." A moment of silence and Val muttered, “But I forgot who I was talking to.”

Max rolled his eyes. "Yeah. Your ideas about my personality and intelligence have been duly noted.” He tried to keep the sarcasm out of his voice but didn’t think he’d completely succeeded. “Think about it, you moron. You think Andy and Adam didn't know what you were capable of that night we came here?  Who was it that gave you such a warm welcome, if you'll recall?"

His brain was telling him that he'd done more than enough but his heart kept telling him to press on. "They helped you anyway.  Jan too.  When you turned up missing, there wasn't any debate, no discussion about the 'bad' side of Val and did the good outweigh the bad enough for us to go looking.  We got on a plane and we came to find you."

"So Jan felt responsible. Your point?"

His heart started banging its head against the wall. “The point being, Valentine, that all of these things done were done with people who had full knowledge of what Valentine Everett is capable of being –good or bad."  He took a breath to steady himself. "And now I know. And I'll still go back and do it all over again the exact same way."

"I know that!” Val snarled. He got up and started to pace back and forth in front of Max. “God, that’s the whole point! You stick around me long enough and you are going to hurt again. Or dead. And you don't get to wake up at sunset!" _Goddamn asshole carny._ How could Max sit there looking so calm and so sure of himself and of Val? He stopped and stood in front of Max, wanting to provoke some kind of reaction that fit with everything Val had been telling himself ever since New Orleans. He wanted some kind of way to make Max say that Val was right, that Val was horrible and evil and needed to be stopped, to be put down like a rabid animal.

Because what kind of man rapes their best friend?

He stood there for what felt like hours, trying to summon up enough energy and enough of his own anger at himself to find the words to spew at Max and wound him even further. But as he stared at the other man, Val found himself noticing how tired Max seemed. Yet he’d come here to try and…and…Val didn’t know what or why other than Max appeared to feel something about Val that Val was afraid to acknowledge in return.

He slowly sat down next to Max again. "I can't remember how not to be afraid any more,” he said slowly.  “God, just a couple of months ago I thought I had found a middle ground. I could keep tabs on the people I loved and still not have to worry about...about being a threat. And now, I am stuck in this city.”

Val rubbed at his eyes. “It's like being back in that cell again, Max, except the door's open and I don't know if I’m strong enough not to walk through it. But I can't. If I leave Atlanta, chances are I’ll end up on somebody's most wanted list." He laughed without humor. "So what can I do? Stay and pray, that I can keep myself under control for the next sixty years or so until you all die? Try to create some kind of relationship with my family, have friends, and I'll think I can handle it until someone else ends up like...like you because I was wrong? They won't stop me until I kill, Max.”

“I know,” Max said softly. “I was there.” The line in the sand meant exactly what Val was saying. He could hurt someone as much or more as he’d hurt Max but that wouldn’t activate the tag. Only dead bodies would do that.

Val shifted until he was looking at Max’s face instead of his profile. "Max, if I had raped Pat or Frank, they would have beaten the shit out of me and then killed me. I'd have understood their reaction. They wouldn’t followed me up onto that roof and offered... asked for something to make it ...not loved me, in spite of it. I don't understand what you did at all. I don't ever want to hurt someone like that again and I don't know how to stop it." He dropped his head to his knees as if he were praying. He wanted to but the words wouldn't come.

Max slowly unclenched a hand from around his knee and reached out to touch Val’s leg. He kept his hand there even after Val looked up at him. "When I went to the roof, I didn't know what I was gonna say or do.  I didn't set out to sleep with you."  Max shook his head.  "Wait...that's not quite right.  I didn't set out to just fuck you or do it because I wanted to make sure I wasn't gay now or something stupid like that.  What I did was...I made love with you...because it was the only way I could think of to say all the stuff I wasn't able to  then.  Like that you're my best friend and I owe you a hell of a lot more than I can ever repay.  And that I love you.  Hell," he said shakily, "I'm probably still making a mess of it."

"No, not a mess," Val said softly. "So many people think this can work but I’m too scared to do anything. I don't know what I want or who I am anymore. The whole time I was with Crispin, he wanted me to fight back. He would bring people and bleed them in the hopes I’d frenzy and tear them apart. I needed it but I wouldn’t let myself lose control to get it and I was proud of that.”

Val's voice dropped and Max had to lean in to hear him. When he did, their foreheads nearly touched. "He told me you were there...fed me enough for it to make sense. He thought it was great. He told me how much you all must love me to risk so much for me.”

Val raised his head slightly and forced himself to look Max in the eyes. He wished he could just drown in the green depths. “You came to save me. But who is going to save _you_ from me? I know you love me, Max. I feel it every time you look at me. But who will save you from me?"

Max moved his hand from Val’s leg and grasped Val’s cold fingers in his.  "It's not your choice, Val, it’s mine.  You can't make it for me and you can't make me abide by it.  I've seen the good in you, how much you love your family and Tevis…and me.  That's your balance, Val.  You said you didn't have any but you do.  Even right now, you do.  If you were all Chaos, you wouldn't be agonizing this much over what to do, would you?"

"God, you are starting to sound like Andrew," Val said wearily.

"Oh geez, don’t let him know that. I’ll never hear the end of it," Max said and was rewarded with a weak smile from his friend. "I don't know what your answers are going to be, but I'll help you find them if you want."  He smiled.  "One small step for man, one giant leap for vampire?" he tried.

Val started to chuckle and choked on it, turning his face into Max's shoulder. He almost pulled back but he felt Max's hand on his hair, hesitantly, then stroking lightly. Could he do this? He wavered between his options. In spite of his desperate words to Max, Val didn't want his life to be over. "I want all the same things you want, Max," he said quietly. "I want to spend years with Tevis. I want to see you marry my sister and have tons of babies to drive you crazy. I want to do something other than sell my body for money or blood," he said and the last was the easiest and the hardest. Being a hustler had defined who and what he was for so long he didn't know if he could ever be anything else even without the rest of his problems. "But I'm afraid the price is too high."

He pulled away and moved to sit next to Max again, the length of their bodies touching. "I've never asked for help in my life...except from you. And you have given it over and over and over again until I'm surprised you don't run the other way when you see me coming." He smiled faintly. "Then I go to pieces on you on a regular basis. Now you know why you are Batman." He knotted and unknotted his fingers. "I'll try to remember I can, that you want me to.” He looped his hands around his knees. “I don't know what's wrong with me," he said on a breath. "I can't seem to think straight."

Max glanced over.  "You probably need to feed, don't you?"  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Val nod.  Without looking over, he extended his arm and rested his hand on Val’s knee, palm up. "Go ahead."

"I'll get Tevis," Val said.

"First step, Val," he answered.  "I trust you.  Take what you need," Max finished.  "My hand's out for you."

Val studied him carefully and then took the hand, wrapping his fingers around Max's palm and moved to squat in front of him. He bent his head after a moment and laid a soft kiss on the pale skin of Max's wrist before raising up a bit to kiss Max's forehead, and then his mouth, just a light brush of his lips. "Got what I need," he said and pulled slightly on Max's hand, bringing the other man to his feet with him. "I know you trust me. I'll practice trusting myself. Tevis likes this part more than you do," he added and there was a faint trace of humor in the dark eyes again. "Not over, yet, bro, but I'll try to remember where your hand is."

"You'd better," Max said softly.  "Or I'm gonna have to kick your skinny little vampire ass.  Then again," he mused, "it is a rather cute vampire ass."  Val caught the glint in Max's eye just before the grin spread across his face.

"Andy was right," Val groaned.  "You are hopeless."

Max grabbed Val and pulled him into a quick hug before letting go.  "Not as long as you're around," he said.  "C'mon, Tevis and Phyl are probably wondering what's going on down here."  They went up the stairs and found Tevis and Phyl in the kitchen watching Jason trying to juggle for a minute before moving apart, Val going towards Tevis and Max starting to go for the door until Jason saw him.  "Show me how!" he demanded again.

"Five minutes?" he asked Phyl.  "Not that he'll be a master or anything." She nodded and he took Jason out onto the steps, sitting him down slightly below and putting his hands over Jason's.  Soon one apple was in each of the boy's hands and Max was trying to show him how to toss 2 apples back and forth.  When their time was up, Max sent Jason back into the house and saw Tevis come outside as he was standing up. He nodded at Val’s partner and received a smile he thought even looked vaguely friendly.

"Do you have children?" Tevis asked Max.

"I think I'd like to...someday," Max said.

"I think you will be good with them."

"Um...thanks.  How's Val?"

Tevis smiled a broader smile at the question. "More focused. Calmer.” The smile slipped a bit as he gazed at Max. "For that much, I thank you. The rest will take time. Maybe later it will not be so hard for him to see some good in all of this. He will be back in an hour or so. Did you want to wait?"

“No thanks. I think I’m just going to see where my feet take me.” Adam and Phyl lived just a few streets over from the business district of Little Five Points and Max figured he could go by Savill’s place and get a cup of coffee if nothing else. “"I'll see you guys later.  Tell Val goodnight for me." 

Max went down the short walk and started to walk. As he neared the heart of the district, he looked over and saw the lights on in Lattice, Adam’s and Andy’s bookstore. _Why not?_ Instead of going in all the way, however, he leaned up against the doorframe and watched Andy and Adam talking quietly behind the counter.  "And you guys pay yourselves to goof off like this?" he asked.

Andy saw him first and a welcoming smile lit his face.  "Max!  Jealous?" he asked.

"Of you?  Always," Max answered.  "How are you, Adam?"

A wry smile twisted the other man’s lips. "Well, I’m not jumping at shadows anymore which is a decided improvement. What are you doing in this neck of the woods?"

"Had Pete drop me by your place.  Talked to Val. He thinks I sound like you, Andy, which is a thought that frightens me no end," Max grinned.  "And your son now wants to take up juggling, Adam.  I'll apologize in advance for any broken dishes the boy might create in his endeavors."

"Lovely. And Phyllida let you turn my son into a side show?" Adam asked, rolling his eyes but laughing. "I'll leave the blame there, then. Going out with the boys?"

"I was gonna walk to the Everett's or back to MATADA.  Got a lot of night left and no real plans."

Andy looked at Max and then at his partner. "He's pitiful."

Adam nodded, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back against the counter. "Absolutely. Not much practice though."

"You gotta get better at this, Max," Andy warned him sadly.

Max stared at both of them. Yet another conversation that he couldn't follow. "Get better at what?"

"The begging. The blatant mooching for assistance," Andy said and glanced at his partner again.

"Oh, no. I step a hundred yards out of Little Five Points without Phyl at my side and her radar goes off," Adam said with a cheerful grin and then let out his own sigh and stretched. "I do love being a kept man." The gray eyes were sparkling with repressed laughter. "I get the vampire and the inscrutable Jamaican. You get the Jersey Devil," he said.

"There is something inherently unfair about this arrangement," Andrew said but he reached into his pocket and pulled out his keys. "C'mon, Maxwell. The bus to Ormewood Park leaves now," he said, heading toward the back of the store. "Rack out those CD's, Adam, and I'll ship them in the morning," he called to his partner and got a wave in response.

Andrew led Max through the stockroom/office area and then up a flight of stairs to the back door and out, unlocking the Volvo door for him. Minutes later they were halfway to the Everetts.

"Adam's off tomorrow so he and Phyl thought they would pop over to Val and Tevis' house to start the repairs,” he said as he drove. “Tevis is supposed to show up to be trained tomorrow. I'll feel better when they are installed over your way."

"Why?" Max sat up straight and turned to look at Andy. "I thought you said Atlanta was off limits?"

"Just because Crispin or Madeleine can't come to Atlanta doesn't mean they can't send somebody."

The thought that they might not yet be done with Crispin or Madeleine was not especially comforting. His own interactions with both of them – both old and new – were enough to have Max considering sleeping with the lights on and a flamethrower by the bed. "Have you heard anything that gives you reason to think something might be brewing?"

"Just trying to be cautious. The agreement was reinforced under duress and you know Madeleine is going to be on a short leash with Anis. As to where Crispin ends up, God only knows. If he, by chance, decided to slip into the city we wouldn't necessarily know right off. We think it unlikely but not impossible."

"Crispin needs to learn how to lose gracefully," Max muttered in response as the miles sped by. "I imagine he wasn't real pleased about Val's escape."

"What Evan said was that Crispin clearly stated that Val is his. As in property, as in to do with what he wants. Evan is concerned that there may be a blood bond on Val as well."

"You mean a new one? Wouldn't Val know?" Then again, Max thought, from the little Val knew about vampires in general, the odds were heavily against Val being able to pick up on anything like that.

"Might not. He wasn't the first time until Crispin used it. So even if Crispin can't or won't get into the city, there's nothing to say he can't or won't try to get Val back out willingly or unwillingly."

"And you haven't told him." It was a statement that Max somehow knew to be fact and not a question he wanted answered.

"No," Andrew paused as he pulled onto the Everetts’ street. "Given his frame of mind right now, we couldn't tell him. I don't think he could take it. But I am very glad you came to see him, Max. Keep throwing bodies at him who give a shit and he'll rally. He and Adam have that over-developed sense of responsibility in common and it can be a great tool sometimes." He pulled into the Everett's driveway but didn’t turn off the engine. "I am not coming in because Isabel will feed me and I have already eaten. Say hi to everybody," Andrew said with a grin as Max got out, then backed up to head back to Decatur and home.

"Chicken," Max called, seeing Andrew look in the rearview mirror and wave. He turned on his heel and walked up the steps, knocking on the door. There was the faint sound of chairs scraping and then footsteps. The door opened and there was Tree.

"Hey," Max greeted her, unable to keep the smile off his face. "Don't suppose y'all have room at the table for a really hungry visitor?"

The smile she returned along with the look in her eyes made his heart jump. "For you? Always." Tree opened the screen door and took Max's hands to lead him inside.

"Wait a sec," he said. "Your little brothers around?"

"No," she told him, puzzled. "They're at the table."

"Good." He leaned in and kissed her. "I'd hate to follow through on that catwalk threat before I got to kiss you - or is that get something to eat?"

She punched his shoulder. "It better be the former one."

"It is," he assured her as he pulled her close. "Trust me on this one." In the back of his mind, Max had been worried about seeing Tree again. What he’d told Andy was the absolute truth – he was falling in love with her and she was who he wanted to be with – but he’d worried about her looking at him and somehow knowing what had happened in New Orleans. He’d worried about if he might react badly to her touch or have some kind of bizarre flashback of the plantation.

But when she put her arms around him, all Max could feel was that he was home and safe. Her body was soft and warm against his and Max was suddenly overwhelmed with the knowledge of how much he loved Tree and wanted to keep on loving her. His arms tightened around her and he buried his face in the crook of her shoulder, kissing her neck.

She giggled at the tickling sensation and touched his face when he finally drew back. “You all right?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Max said and smiled. “Yeah,” he said again. “I am. Just really glad to be home and to see you.” He put his fingers under her chin and tipped her face up to meet his. What started as a soft, gentle kiss quickly gained heat and passion. Tree pulled him close, her thumbs hooked in the belt loops of his jeans and splayed her fingers over his ass. He pulled her blouse out of the back of her uniform skirt, wanting to feel her skin against his hands.

Hugh Everett's voice broke the mood. "Theresa? Was someone there? It's awfully quiet."

The kiss broke apart under embarrassed laughter which they tried to keep quiet. "Sssh!" Tree mock-scolded as she tucked her blouse back in. "Coming, Daddy."

She turned around and Max followed her into the dining room. "Look who managed to find his way home," she said, sliding back into her seat.

"Max!" Hugh greeted him with a grin and a knowing smile. "Pull up a seat. You eaten yet?"

"No, sir," he replied. Mere seconds later it seemed, Isabel was putting a plate in front of him and he found himself seated between Frank and Pat. Between bites, he answered their questions about New Orleans, when he'd gotten back and how the trip was. Several times he could see Hugh open his mouth as if starting to say something and then he would close it again.

"It's a good thing you showed up, Max," Frank said. "Our little sister was halfway to the door any time a car went by."

"I was _not_ ," Tree protested. The glare she shot at her eldest brother would have been more effective if the other members of her family hadn't raucously shouted her down. Max could feel his ears warm and glanced down at his plate, but not before catching a small smile and a nod from Isabel which he cautiously returned.

After dinner, Hugh asked if Max wanted to see how the basement was coming along. It wasn't the first thing on Max's mind but he agreed, sensing that Hugh wanted to talk to him alone. Isabel began to clear the table with Tree's help and 'Dette tried to keep watch on her two children. Max offered to take Joseph off her hands for a bit so she could get her older child in a bath and into bed and she gratefully sat Joe in his arms. The toddler looked at Max for a long moment and apparently decided Max would do as a mother substitute. He was babbling contentedly to his new audience as Max followed Hugh to the basement.

Once there, Max sat on the bottom step and let Joey grasp his index fingers with his chubby hands as the baby moved his feet, learning the coordination needed to walk. "What's up?" he asked.

Hugh turned from his contemplation of the poured glass. "Did you see Val?"

Max nodded. "He's doing all right.” He paused and then decided it was okay to give Hugh a little bit of information. "He's trying to make some decisions about what he wants to do."

A hopeful light came into Hugh's eyes. "You mean he might...give up...come back?" he asked quietly, eyes immediately slipping away in preparation for what he was sure would be a negative response.

"I don't know," Max said, wondering how fine a line he could tread between what he knew and what he wanted to say. "All I can say is I know those ideas have crossed his mind. He has someone and I think he's looking at making a long-term arrangement with him." He turned his attention to Joe. Max didn’t think he could really say anything more even though part of him longed to reassure Hugh and tell him that his son was much closer than he though.

Hugh nodded and seemed to accept Max’s statement, "What about you, Max?” he asked. “Do you have any family back East who might be worrying about you? I know Isabel's already adopted you and I know you've told me...but there's really nobody else?"  A realization that he might be pressing too far crossed his mind. "You don't have to answer if you don't want to."

Max shook his head and shrugged one shoulder at the same time. " 's all right, but there really isn't anybody else. I know they tried to find someone when my mom split but they didn't have any luck. My folks were both from New Jersey from what I do know. Guess they met and got married." He shrugged again. "Don't ask me why."

"They must have loved each other at least then," Hugh offered.

"Maybe." Max kept his attention on the baby. "My dad went to prison before I was born." Shaking his head, he continued to watch Joseph. "Eddie Griffin. Made his bones when he was only 18."

"Made his bones?" Hugh asked.

Max looked up for a second. "Killed someone," he explained briefly. "It's a great career move in the Family. Get to move up the food chain."

He returned to his contemplation of the toddler. "I was strictly low-level. Never made my bones. Never wanted to."

"What about your mother?"

"Don't really remember much about her. After my father got killed, she kinda lost it. Started going out a lot. She'd tell me she'd go out on a date but she was probably hooking or something like that.”

“Here." Max freed one of his hands from Joe’s chubby clutches and reached into his back pocket, pulling out his wallet. He laid it open on the step beside him and dug out a yellowed, faded newspaper clipping, running his thumb briefly over the depression that had been made by his father's ring before he'd given it to Val. "Don't know why I have this," he semi-apologized, handing it to Hugh. "Was just curious once so I looked at public records to find out where they got married, then went to the library and hunted through their stacks of papers. Found this and tore it out - which means I’ve probably got a vandalism or theft charge on top of everything else." Once Hugh took the clipping, Max gave his hand and attention back to the baby.

Hugh opened up the clipping carefully to see a picture of a young man and woman next to a wedding announcement for Edward Michael Griffin and Joann Constanza Brasi.

"Seems I look more like her than him," Max said, his eyes fixed on the baby. "Hey kiddo," he cautioned Joe. "Don't wanna slip and fall - padded as your little butt might be."

Hugh was staring at the photo, or more accurately, at the name of the bride, then at the picture again. The face was familiar. He hadn’t ever met Joann Brasi but he had seen similar facial features before.

He glanced at Max, who was doing his best to teach Joe how to walk properly. A smile hovered on his lips as he looked at the dark head bent over to murmur instructions to Joe. Max didn’t use the baby talk that 'Dette used or even Hugh on occasion, but it was as if he were talking to an adult.

"Honey. Max. You want some pie? Some coffee?" Isabel called down from the top of the stairs.

"Yeah," Hugh called back and Max turned to smile at Isabel in agreement. "Bella, come here for a minute," Hugh called down to her and she descended, wiping her hands on a dishtowel.

Joe laughed happily when he caught sight of his grandmother and Max swung him up by his hands so Isabel could take him. She smiled at her grandson and covered his face with kisses. "You can be my dessert, mio piccolo!" she teased him as he giggled.

"You seen this?" Hugh said, offering her the clipping before Max could protest. She accepted it, swapping the clipping for the baby and read. When she saw at the picture, Isabel began murmuring in Italian, eyes wide. All Max could tell was that her tone sounded excited, then she was grabbing his face, kissing his cheeks, and calling up the stairs.

"Bella! In English!" Hugh said.

"The albums! The photo albums!!" Isabel said as if that explained everything. She grabbed Max's wrist and hauled him up the stairs, still yelling for Frances and Theresa to bring the photo albums.

Max found himself manhandled quite competently by one hundred and ten pounds of determined Italian excitement as he was pushed onto the couch. Frank was the first to show up with a box of photo albums and pictures.

"No!" Isabel scolded. "The ones from your Grandmother Inina. Get those," she said, sitting down next to Max as Frank pulled out the proper set.

"Bring the dessert!" Isabel ordered as if she couldn't be bothered and then began flipping through an album. Max glanced up at Hugh and then Tree, who both shrugged at him, as mystified by their wife’s and mother’s actions as he was.

“Uh, no offense, but I’m really confused right now,” Max offered up. His clipping was on the coffee table, halfway covered by one of the apparently many Everett family photo albums and he gently pulled it out from underneath and folded it, replacing it in his wallet. “Seriously confused,” he added when nobody else said anything.

Isabel looked up, smiled, and patted his hand. "My maiden name was Brasi," she said with a smile that left no doubt at how pleased she was to have found yet another reason to be fond of Max. "Your Mama...she is a cousin I am almost certain. Joann is so American a name. I think I met her once or twice when we were young."

Max stared. “It can’t be. Your name, that is,” he clarified, feeling like his mouth was forming the words all wrong. “I don’t…there _isn’t_ anybody.” The fact he was alone had been the one unshakeable truth of Max’s life. It had formed much of his identity and it looked like Val’s mother was about to tell him the one thing he’d always counted on, always _known_ about himself, wasn’t true. "It can't be," Max said again.

Isabel turned to Max and grasped one of his hands in hers. “My grandmother’s name was Inina. She loved pictures and she made all the family send her pictures from every occasion. She had all boys so I was given the albums when she died since I was the oldest granddaughter.”

Max nodded. He understood all the words but the part of his brain that would help them make sense seemed to be as poleaxed as he was. “I don’t…I don’t know any of these people,” was all he could say in response.

“Not to worry,” she smiled at him reassuringly and squeezed his hand before letting it go to begin paging through the album in her lap again. “I will introduce you through these pictures.” Isabel slowly turned through several more pages before she gave an excited gasp. “Here! Oh yes, I knew I had seen this!" She shoved the album toward Max and pointed. Set off on the side was the original, full color photo that had been reproduced in Max’s newspaper clipping. Carefully, Isabel peeled back the protective film and pulled it out.  She placed it carefully in Max’s hands.

He carefully took the picture and held it in his shaking fingers.  "How do you have this?" he stuttered.  He blinked his eyes to clear his vision.  All he'd had for years was that little black and white photo in the clipping and now in front of him was a full color picture of the people who'd brought him into the world.  It made Eddie and Joann Griffin seem real, that they'd actually existed, rather than just the names and vague memories he’d grown up with.  In the photo he could see that his mother's eyes were blue while his father's were brown and that his hair was as black as his mother's while his father's coloring was lighter.  "I don't understand," Max said.  He set the photo down on the table and looked up to see the rest of the Everetts closely watching their mother and Max.

"Joann would have been my...fourth cousin? Removed many times,” she said with a quick smile at her middle daughter. "Not close but the part of the family back East were closer back then and spent more time together. Not so much anymore."

When Max didn’t say anything but continued to stare at the picture, Isabel leafed through the album and found another picture, holding it out to Max. He slowly took it from her hand. In it, Joann was sitting in a living room, dark hair in a braid over her shoulder and leaning down to smile at the toddler sitting in her lap.

Max knew the small boy sitting in his mother’s lap, dressed in overalls and a T-shirt, green eyes bright as he laughed back up at his mother, had to be him but he couldn’t make it make sense. He didn’t remember _any_ of it. He should, shouldn’t he? Shouldn’t he remember that his mother had once upon a time smiled at him, laughed and hugged him? That she had wanted him?

Isabel’s voice broke into his chaotic thoughts. "There may be more. We have hundreds of loose pictures that I have not put in albums yet.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her place two more photos in front of him. One was apparently a family picture and his eyes went unerringly to where she stood in the second row along with what were apparently other relatives. The other picture was of his mother as a child.

Isabel was looking at him with unconcealed delight and it was all Max could do to keep breathing. He didn’t know what to do or to say and there was a small part of him that hated Isabel for unknowingly tearing down what had been one of the absolutes in his world but as soon as he had that thought, he was ashamed. She hadn’t done it out of malice. If anything, Isabel seemed really…happy Max was related to her.

He made himself look only at her. He didn’t think he could stand to look at any of the other Everetts right now and see what might be on their faces. “They told me I didn't have any family,” he said.  But that still didn't explain the pictures, did it?  "I don't even speak Italian," he finished nonsensically.

“We can teach you,” he heard Frank say.

Theresa slipped onto the couch beside him, one arm around his waist as she looked at the pictures. Isabel put her hand on Max’s again. “I don't remember it all. Joann was much younger than me and I only saw her the once or twice when I went to visit Mama Inina. Everyone went on her big birthdays.” She paused for a moment. “My Aunt Lucia used to write Mama with news and I remember hearing that Joann had married but that…that was a bad time for us.” Hugh came over to stand next to his wife and took her hand in his. “We had lost two babies and I was not well so we did not go to the wedding.”

She set the open photo album aside. “Agnes, you go to our bedroom and bring me Valentine’s baby book. It is in the dresser by the window.” When Agnes nodded and ran up the stairs, Isabel said. “There was another letter from Lucia that said Joann was pregnant. I think I may have kept that one since it was so close to when Valentine was born.” A smile lit her features. “I thought our children might become friends as well as cousins.”

Agnes came thumping back downstairs and put the book in her mother’s lap. “This was all so long ago," Isabel murmured. She steadied the book on her lap and reached forward to flip through some of the other photo albums on the coffee table. “Paolo died in 1972 and there was a funeral,” she told Max and showed him a large picture with thirty or so somberly dressed people in it. She pointed to Inina, in the center with her brothers and sisters, and Max thought all of them looked as ancient as the guy they’d buried. Children and who Max assumed were other family members were ranged around the central grouping and everyone was in dark clothes.

Isabel pointed again and Max could just make out his mother’s features. He leaned in closer for a better look and saw a man who looked distinctly un-Italian with his light blond hair beside her, almost out of the frame of the picture.

"Who's that?" he asked.  "He doesn't look like he really belongs there." 

"I don't know. We did not go to the funeral," Isabel said. She opened the baby book and pictures along with all manner of baby memorabilia fell out of the pages. Max helped Hugh pick them up while Isabel looked through the book. When she turned it towards him to show him a picture of Val as a baby, it was not what he had expected.

The baby in the photograph was tiny and sickly looking even with the dark curly hair and the huge eyes. The next picture - Hugh holding his son showed just how small Val had been – three months and barely a handful to his father. Another picture showed Val as a toddler and Max glanced to the picture of himself with his mother. Max’s skin was more olive-toned and his hair was straight but he could see their features were remarkably similar now that he knew what to look for. They were not twins but they could have been mistaken for brothers. Even their open-mouthed, baby-toothed grins were the same.

He took the book from Isabel and flipped through more pictures of Val’s younger years, stopping at a photo that showed a slightly older Val with a tube in his nose which the smiling child did not seem to notice. Another showed him in a diaper and with bruises on his arms and legs, playing with blocks, an expression of total concentration on his face.

"I told you he was sickly," Hugh said quietly. Max nodded and kept turning pages. Val became healthier as he got older. The medical items disappeared and it was obvious he’d put on weight. The last picture in the book was not a baby picture but one where Val was about nine, holding an infant in his arms as if it were all his.

"That's me," Theresa said in his ear. He looked at her and there was a blush on her cheeks. "Daddy says he brought me and momma home from the hospital and Val walked up to see me and he asked daddy if I was a present for him."

"Told him yes," Hugh said, chuckling at the memory. "You'd think he was her mother."

"I can imagine," Max said, grinning at the mental picture.  "He does have that mother hen way about him."   Even in the pictures he could see the spark that would become Val's cocky attitude in the way the boy posed in pre-adolescent bravado.  His picture with his sister, though, clearly showed his heart had been stolen by the small, defenseless baby he held, his smile tender as his glance strayed away from the camera and down at the bundle that had been placed in his arms. 

Isabel was still sorting through the letters and cards, some in English and some in Italian. She found one and read it. "This is from Lucia. She mentions Joann just to say you and she had stayed with her for a few days.” She glanced up at the date on the letter. “It was just after Val was born.” Her eyes continued to scan the letter and Max saw a frown crease her forehead. She looked up at her children. “You go find something to do,” she ordered. “Theresa and Hugh, you stay.”

Confused, her children followed her order and left the living room in a ragged line to go huddle in the kitchen. Frank and Pat both looked at Max, who shrugged as if to say _she’s your mom_. Pat rolled his eyes back at Max in apparent sarcastic thanks for that bit of news.

Max watched them file out.  "Why did you tell them to go?" he finally asked Isabel.  The way she’d almost snapped out the order for her children to leave was a complete change from the happy, smiling woman she’d been only moments before.

Isabel gripped the letter in her hands. “This is not a…kind thing I tell you,” she said. “You tell who you want and if you want after you hear it.” She looked down and loosened her hands, smoothing the wrinkled paper. “If you prefer, I will talk to you by yourself first and Hugh and Theresa will go join the others.”

Max stomach had begun to unknot itself once the focus had left the pictures of him and his mother and turned to Val. Now, however, he could feel the knots forming again, hard and jagged in the pit of his stomach. “What isn’t so kind?” he asked. He looked down to see her tiny hand, decorated with only her wedding rings, squeezing his so hard that her knuckles were nearly white.  “They can stay,” he belatedly added.

Isabel nodded and began to translate the scrawled Italian. "She says that your mother came to her for a few days. She was very frightened but would not tell Lucia why. They knew Edward, your father, had been given a prison sentence and Lucia thought that why Joann was so scared. But Inina and Vincente, her brother, they said...they said that Edward was not your father. They told Inina that he was in custody before you were conceived.”

"Wait a minute," Max said, wanting everything to just stop.  His voice sounded thin and high. He could feel Theresa’ s breath on his neck, smell her perfume, and yet none of it seemed real. He looked down and could see her hand on his thigh but he couldn’t feel it. He couldn’t feel anything. Eddie Griffin had to be his father.  It was what he'd believed all his life, never questioning. 

There'd never been a reason to question it until now. 

“What else does she say?” he demanded. Maybe it was all a big misunderstanding. They’d had a huge argument and Joann had been so pissed that she’d just decided to cut off the rest of the Brasi family.

Isabel looked back down at the letter and took a deep breath before continuing her translation. “Vincente was angry as was Inina and there was a fight. Lucia does not have the details but I can imagine. She was a wonderful woman but she was also a daughter of the church. For Joann to not be faithful to her husband would have made her very angry.” She looked back up at Max. “Joann stayed only a few days and then left. Lucia did not know where. Somewhere I have another letter about Edward's death, I think; an obituary or something like it. I will search for it, Max. And I will call Lucia. She is very old but she may remember more. Or one of her children."

“No!” Max said sharply. He dropped his head in his hands and tried to put his thoughts in order, tried to calm down enough to create a timeline in his head that would prove this Inina wrong and set his world at least somewhat to rights again.

“Max.” It was Hugh who spoke.

Max automatically looked up when he heard his name and found Hugh looking at him. As he stared at Val’s father, he was struck by how Hugh had the same calm blue eyes as Val and he grabbed on to the calm oasis they provided in the midst of his turmoil. “Yeah?” he said quietly.

“When were you born?”

Max kept his eyes on Hugh like a lifeline. “October.”

“Do you know when your father was incarcerated?”

Max opened his mouth but the words wouldn’t come out. His mind, however, made the immediate connection that he’d never even thought of before now. His shoulders slumped but he continued to look at Hugh, hoping against hope even as he answered. “September prior.”

There were a few beats of silence before Hugh spoke again. “I’m sorry, son.”

Max bit the inside of his cheek, hard, and turned away to stare at the wall, not seeing anything. Theresa’s arm tightened around his waist.

"It changes nothing, Max," Isabel reassured him. "People thought differently then and Inina was more strict than most. If you want, I will pursue this no further and we will not speak of it unless you wish to. You could be no more dear to me...to us...than had we known you all your life." She pursed her lips and looked at the clock. "You stay here tonight and we will call Lucia in the morning if you want, yes?" she asked.

"Thank you," he managed to get out through the tightness in his chest.  He kept his gaze on the wall until he felt he could turn and face the Everetts without giving away how confused and hurt and angry he was. If asked, Max couldn’t even have labeled his feelings with any clarity right then His nerves were stretched taut; everything and everyone felt too sharp, too close.  Theresa's perfume, which he normally loved, was giving him a headache.  "I need to...I need to call work and let them know I may be a bit late tomorrow, then.  I hope Pete's not gonna be mad."  _What did Pete matter_ , he argued with himself.  His mind still didn't want to accept any of what he'd been told this evening and it was grasping for anything mundane and ordinary to prevent independent thought.

"I'll do it," Hugh said, standing up. He clasped his wife’s hand a moment more and then went to the kitchen, motioning his family back as he did.

Max nodded and gently disengaged his hand from Isabel's.  "I'll be back in a little bit," he told her.  Tree reluctantly let him go and he stepped around the couch, walking quickly towards the front door, resolutely not looking back at the kitchen where there rest of the Everetts sat wondering what had happened. He slammed the door behind him and the cool night air flowed against his hot face as he jumped down the steps and set out.

Max was so caught up in his own thoughts he didn't see the shadow disentangle itself from the trees across the street and pace him as he walked. Nor was he paying attention as he headed across Monroe, back toward where the carnival had been, all but ignoring the traffic until he heard the sound of a horn and the squeal of tires. Something struck him and he went down hard. As his body hit the asphalt, he realized someone had wrapped their arms around him and had hit the ground with him.

Rolling to a stop, he fought his way free and found himself staring up into Val's face. The vampire's expression was caught between anger and fear. The car that had nearly hit Max squealed by with much honking and shouting that quickly faded. "Fuck, Max! Have you lost what little sense you have, you stupid son of a bitch?” Val yelled at him. “Tell me that wasn't on purpose?"

"No."  Max said shakily, realizing what had almost happened.  "It wasn't."

Val flopped on to his back on the grass next to the sidewalk. "I thought you were going to be a bug spatter on the road."

He sat up, ignoring the trembling in his limbs.  "Almost was," he agreed, wiping his face with his hand.  "Thanks."  Max studied Val for a moment. "You're a bit far from your current home."

Val sat up and the streetlights showed a calmer expression on his face. "I came...just to see. I was outside the house and I saw you slam out. Did you have a fight with Theresa or somebody? Pat?"

"No."  Max pushed himself to his knees.  "I gotta go," he said but stopped halfway to standing when Val put his hand on Max’s arm.

Val moved closer. "C'mon, Max, talk to me," he said softly. He pointed to the bar across the street.  "I'll buy you a beer." he said.

"Trolling the bars, are we? Sorry,” he muttered, shoving his hands in his pockets.

Val bit back a sharp retort. Max was obviously upset about something – walk into traffic notwithstanding. "No, I was working," he said tightly and hauled on Max’s arm to get him the rest of the way to his feet. He waited until the light turned and then hurried Max across the street.

The bar had obviously seen some better days but it was still on the side of local neighborhood hangout versus dive bar. The tables and chairs were scarred and had obviously seen use but they were clean and the bar smelled of lemon cleaner underneath the scent of spilled beer. A television mounted on the wall showed some type of game show in progress but Val barely spared it a glance as he ordered two beers from the bartender and pushed Max over to a corner table as far away from the bar as possible.

Max didn't even take a sip, just turned the bottle around and around, using the long neck as a handle while he stared at the wet rings the bottle left in its wake.  Val watched him for several minutes before finally reaching a hand out and closing it around Max's wrist strongly enough that the other man couldn't twist his hand anymore to turn the bottle.  "Max," he said quietly, "you're making me dizzy.  What’s up?"

"Your grandma Inina sure knows how to throw a monkey wrench into things," came the non sequitur.

Val blinked.  "Beg pardon?  What does my great-grandmother have to do with this?" The vampire was beginning to feel that he was stuck in a foreign film without subtitles.

"Was talking to your dad tonight down in the basement," Max told him.  "We got on the subject of family and before I remembered why I don't talk about mine, my big mouth opens and out comes information about Eddie and Joann Griffin. Even showed him a wedding announcement picture I'd kept stuck in my wallet for years.

 _Eddie and Joann_ , Val mouthed silently to himself.  Max had never mentioned their names before.  "Then what happened?"

Max took a long pull at the bottle and then set it down with a thump. "Well, before she was Joann Griffin, she was Joann Brasi."

"Fuck me..." Val breathed after a stunned silence. "As in Momma's family?"

"Uh-huh.  Hugh showed the picture to your mom, she started running off in Italian and before I knew it, threw me in a chair and started showing me pictures."  Max shook his head, still unable to credit the rapid turn of events but turned halfway in the booth to look at Val.  "Man, she had pictures of my  _mother_.  She had the original of the same one from that damn newspaper clipping.  And...and a picture of her with me when I was a baby."

Val shook his head and leaned forward across the table. "I don't understand. You mean we’re related? As in really related? Like you are...what? A cousin?"

"That would seem to be about the gist of it," Max agreed tonelessly.

"And this news was enough to send you out in front of oncoming traffic?" Val asked. "What am I missing here?  I don't know Joann Brasi so you can't be that close a relation. I thought you liked my family?" Val was completely confused.

"I do!" Max said sharply, knowing he was overreacting.  He couldn't seem to get himself back under control, back to where everything didn't hurt because everything didn't matter.  "My mother is apparently your mother's fourth cousin or some such like that.  I dunno - got no experience figuring out those kind of ties but it does seem we’re related.  At least on one side." He started to pick up his beer again but his hands were visibly trembling.  "Goddammit," he cursed.

Max was shaking so hard that Val thought the bottle would shatter in his hands. Deftly, he pulled it from Max's hand and set it aside. He slipped onto the bench seat beside Max. "Yo, Batman. Ease off and tell me what's wrong. C'mon, Max."

"Your mom..." Max started and then stopped. A moment later, he heaved a sigh and kept talking. If he didn’t, Val would probably find a roof somewhere and having his world turned upside down once was enough for tonight, he decided. “Your dad showed her the clipping and then it was all these…these pictures that she _shouldn’t have_ ,” he hissed. As much as he was growing to love Isabel Everett, he was finding it hard to forgive her the pictures right then. “She started talking about how she had this old letter from…Lucia?” he asked and waited until Val nodded. “She starts reading this letter and it’s about how my mom came and stayed with her for a few days – me and my mom, really. Then…then the letter went on and it said that some relatives of yours figured out that my dad…can’t be my dad.”

Max hit the edge of the table with both palms, causing his bottle to spill over.  "Fuck," he said without emotion as he picked up the bottle but did nothing to stop the beer dripping over the side.

Val used his forearm to wipe the spill onto the floor. He spotted the bartender coming by with a cloth and held up his hand, catching the offered towel mid-air. He wiped the table down while he thought about Max had said. "Okay, so, the man you thought was your father maybe wasn't. Happened a lot," Val said quietly. "And a shock, yeah, but it doesn’t change who you are now."

"Oh, please," Max snapped back.  "If I wanted Dear Abby, I would've bought a paper."  He made a move towards the end of the bench and started to stand.

Val pulled him back gently but firmly. "Sit!" he hissed, but made no further move to restrain Max. "Now. Tell me what you know, what you don't know and what you think. Sounds like you are a little shy on information, bro; got half a story."

Max reluctantly sat back down.  "Apparently Vincente and Inina did a little date figuring and decided my mom's story didn't quite match up to the calendar.  I’d never really thought about it before, y’know. But then your dad asked when I was born – which was October. And then he asked when Eddie had left and I knew he’d been in custody from the September prior.” He took a swig from what was left in the beer bottle. “Shit, I’m such a stupid idiot. Was fucking right there all along. He was never my father."

"I get it, Max. I get that you thought Eddie was your father. But I also know that you expressed no great affection for him or your mom. So what's really got you so upset?"

"You just don't get it, do you?" Max asked. "You've always had a family.  I didn't.  But the one thing I had - even if it was to hate 'em - was the fact of who were my parents.  I could pull out that damn clipping and look at it and just wonder...what the hell happened." He took a breath, trying to make sure he could stay calm.  "Newspaper clippings don't tell or show you much.  When I was talking to your dad tonight, he said that my folks must have loved each other once.  I told him I didn't think so.  When your mom handed me that picture, it was like...I could see that your dad might have been right.  And then when I saw that picture of me and her....” He shook his head. “For the first time in a long time, I let myself think that maybe she wanted me. If she did, then what the fuck changed her mind?"

"You don't know she did," Val said. "Max, things happen. People change and life can be a bitch. You know this! You still don't know what happened," he said softly and urgently.

Max went on as though he hadn’t heard Val. "And then that damn letter from Lucia.  There wasn't nothin' there.  Who knows why they got married even?  He went to prison, she split and I’m right back where I started except for one thing.  Now I only got half of what wasn't a very good family to start with.  All the things I based myself on were in part based on what I knew – or thought I did. Now...now what do I do?  It’s just like I told you about waking up in the hospital.  I'm not the same Max Griffin anymore. I don't know where he went...and I was just starting to like him," Max finished, drawing a thumb through the small pool of beer still on the table.

"Nothing has changed about you despite what may have happened to your parents. Didn’t you tell me that I was still the same person or did I dream that, Max?” Val caught Max’s face, not really caring if anyone saw him but reasonably certain no one would with his back blocking the view of the rest of the bar. "Who you are is still who you decide it should be and not because your parents did or didn't love each other. Maybe your mom had a reason for straying if she did. Mio, you have remade yourself a dozen times since I met you. It only gets better, Max. Don't let the past drag you back again. If you want to find out what happened, we’ll try for as long as you want as much as you want. Maybe even find your mom and just ask her what happened. Until then – even after then – you are still you, Max. You get to make those decisions. Not your parents. Not anymore."

Max closed his eyes and turned his head until Val let go of his face.  "I don't know if I can, mio.  Comes a point it just hurts too damn much to keep remaking myself."  His mouth quirked into a self-mocking smile. "Although I don't think you're going to accept 'do as I say and not as I do', are you?"

"Would you? Did you?" Val asked, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Stubborn as dried shit, you are."

“And comments like that are the reason I love you so,” Max shot back. “Your mom said we'd call Lucia in the morning and see what she remembers. I'll be at work after that and around MATADA if you wanna drop by, 'kay?" Much as he wanted to close himself off, Max made himself leave an avenue open for Val to visit.  If he was any kind of friend and meant what he had said to Val today, it was the least he could do not to cut himself off from the vampire despite how emotionally raw he currently felt.  "I'm gonna head back to your folks' house.  Say goodnight to Adam for me and apologize again if Jason's broken anything?"  He smiled faintly at his friend.

"We were planning to come tomorrow tonight anyway to work on the house," Val said, sliding backward out of the booth to let Max out. "C'mon, sugar. I'll walk you back." He stood up and dropped a few dollars on the table, then followed Max to the door.

Val played crossing guard at the busy intersection, but neither man saying much as they hurried across the street. Once further away from the brilliant glare of the streetlights and back into the subdued shadows of the residential district, Val hesitantly put his arm around Max's shoulders and when the other man didn't resist, pulled him closer for a moment, twisting his head a bit to kiss Max's temple. "We'll work it out, Max. Figure it out," he promised softly as they walked slowly along the sidewalk.

"You're making me weak in the knees with all this smooth talk," Max said dryly. "Now I see how you won Tevis over." He grunted as Val hit him on the arm. "What is it with your family and this need to leave lasting bruises on me?"

"Want to make sure you know you're one of us," Val chuckled softly. "Family tradition,"

Val stopped as they neared the house. He could see Tree sitting on the steps looking up the street in the opposite direction. He pointed her out to Max and then slipped back towards the shadows. “Tomorrow,” he reminded Max before turning to head back the way they’d come and letting Max finish the last few yards alone.


	24. Making a House a Home

Tree was doing a slow scan of the street but still looking the other way so Max whistled softly to alert her to his presence.  When she turned in response to the sound and saw him, she pushed herself off the steps and came forward, stopping in front of him and then reaching out very carefully to take one hand in both of hers. "Momma is sorry,” she told him.  “She's going to either fuss over you or totally avoid you ‘cause she says she should have looked and checked before saying anything."

Max nodded.  “It’s not…I don’t know,” he finished lamely.  “Not like there’s a manual for this or anything.  Be nice if there was.  Never had cousins before.”

Tree smiled a little at that.  "It doesn't matter, you know.  About your parents.  Not to me. Not to them. I know it does to you...that it hurts," she whispered, wanting to help but not knowing if her words were doing more harm than good.

“Some,” he admitted.  Max could hear Val’s voice in his head.  _I thought you liked my family._   “And it’s not like I’m mad at your mom or anything.  It was just a lot to take in all at once and. I needed some time to think.  I’ll talk to your mom and make sure she knows I’m not pissed or anything.”

“But it’s okay?” she asked.

“Being related to you?” Max clarified.  “Yeah.”  He felt his lips curve in a small, genuine smile.  “I mean, I kinda felt like it ‘cause of the way you all took me in after Val and I came here so it’s…it’s nice.”  And it was in a way that he couldn’t quite define yet but was starting to think he could really like.

“And you,” he said and gave Tree a quick kiss.  “You snuck up on me.”

She smiled a bigger smile at that and turned to walk next to him, slipping her arm around his waist at the same time.

They reached the house and slowly walked up the porch steps.  When Tree would have gone to the door, Max pulled her over into the dark corner by the porch swing.  "I wish we could just stay right here instead," Max whispered against Tree's mouth before kissing her.  Her mouth opened quickly under his and Max let his hands slide down to rest on her hips as her hands, light and soft, stroked over his shoulders and back. 

The porch light came on.

The angel on his shoulder told him was a good thing they'd been interrupted but Max wasn't so sure. "I think we're being paged."

Tree sighed and nodded.  Her father had pulled the same trick on Bernadette. "Come on. Let's go back inside."

She opened the door and Max blinked against the warm light in the living room.  He felt Tree squeeze his hand once more and he heard her say goodnight to her father and head upstairs.  As his vision cleared, he looked around and saw that the photos had been cleaned up and put away save one.  Hugh was sitting on the couch but Isabel was nowhere to be seen.

“Where’s…?”

Hugh nodded toward the kitchen. "Max," he said in low tones, “she feels very badly about the way this all came out."

"I know," Max replied. "But it’s okay.”  He pointed toward the kitchen and Hugh nodded again.  Max walked into the kitchen to see Isabel sitting at the table and starting out the garden window into the dark night, a cup of coffee in her hands. 

When she heard his footsteps, she turned.  Her eyes were bright and color flooded her face. "Max, can I get you anything?"

"No, I'm fine." Isabel gave him a small smile and turned the cup in her hands.  Max hated this.  He hated this sudden, uncomfortable silence between him and a woman who had been nothing but good to him from the day he’d showed up on her doorstep, who had made him feel a part of the family before any of them had known any different. 

“Isabel…” he started and then shook his head.  Crossing the last few feet, he pulled out a chair and sat down next to her.  He leaned in and pulled one of her hands from the coffee cup, interlacing her fingers with his, and tried again.  "Momma, you didn't do anything bad."

"I tell you that your father is not who you think and I have done nothing bad?" she asked but didn’t remove her hand from his and he took that as a good sign.

Max used his other hand to gently pull the cup away and set it aside, then took both of her hands in his.  "It was a long time ago,” he said gently.  “Doesn’t change anything that’s happened since.  Besides,” he said and, judging by the heat suffusing his face, he was probably turning as red as Isabel had when he’d come into the kitchen.  Still, he wanted her to understand he wasn’t mad and pressed ahead.  You gave me far more than you took away.  You gave me a whole family.  And," he finished, trying to make her smile, "somebody's gotta teach me to do something besides curse in Italian."

"Nice boys don't curse," Isabel scolded lightly and then reached over and put her arms around Max's neck. He had to bend uncomfortably to return the hug but it was worth it. Isabel held him for a long minute, petting his hair and his back and saying soft things in Italian that could have been endearments or apologies or just promises that it would all be okay. She pulled away after several long minutes and held his face in her hands, searching his eyes.  "It hurts more, sometimes, to be truthful to the people you love," she said quietly. "You lie to strangers and what does it matter? But to the ones you love it always matters. You hurt now, but you know you are loved, yes?"

"Yes'm," he said obediently and caught the look on her face that told him unequivocally she wasn't buying anything he was trying to sell.  Isabel was honest and expected the same out of those she laid claim to as well.  "I know.  I know you do.  I…I love you too."

"Good. You are a good boy, Max, and it was a good thing for us that your mama had you no matter who your papa was. You remember that even good things come from bad things sometimes."  When he nodded, she gave him a quick kiss on his forehead and rose from the table.

Isabel seemed to feel slightly better after Max reassured her several more times that she hadn't done anything wrong, only been speaking from excitement.  She promised she would call Inina in the morning to see if there was anything else she knew should Max decide he wanted her to do that.  Now she and Hugh had finally gone upstairs to bed and Max was stretched out on the couch with his hands behind his head and no extraneous noise or conversation to block out what he'd learned this evening.

 _I have a family.  An actual, living, breathing, blood-related family._   Wasn't that just a kick in the ass?  Seventeen years being so sure he was alone in the world laid waste by a newspaper clipping and a woman with a jones for capturing every second of life on film.

Isabel had been so happy about it and the rest of the Everetts had been as well once they finally understood what was going on.  Pat had proclaimed Max the "younger brother substitute" for Val while Val was in New Orleans.  Max immediately shot back that Pat could _try_ to kick his ass and, since they were now cousins or something, how about returning that ten bucks Pat had taken him for the last time they’d played pool?  Pat had loftily responded that the ties of blood were worth much more than ten dollars.

 _Family on the installment plan._   Max chuckled to himself.  He was going to like this.  A little kicking and screaming for form's sake, maybe, but that was it.

However, accepting the good that had happened tonight also meant acknowledging, if not accepting, the bad that might result from the sudden family connection.  The good mood dimmed as Max recalled Isabel's words that Vincente and Inina had done the math to determine that Eddie Griffin was not Max's father, forcing Max to do the same.  Sitting up, he switched on the table lamp, then leaned over and picked up the picture Isabel had left out on the table for him.

His mother was holding him on her lap.  Joann was bent at the waist slightly, leaning to the left to look at her son’s face.  Her head was tilted slightly more towards Max but she was facing the camera enough that Max could see a smile on her face that reached her eyes.  One hand was holding a chubby baby arm so that Max was waving at the camera along with Mom.  He stared at the photo and wished he could remember something, anything, like that but the only memories that appeared were the old ones.

His mother had never seemed particularly happy to him.  Now that he was older, he could put a whole string of words to it – tired, stressed…afraid – that he hadn’t been able to as a child.  Back then, he had only thought that she was mad at him a lot and he didn’t know what he’d done to make her mad or what he could do to make her happy.

Max supposed Joann had done her best but it didn’t mean there wasn’t still some child’s bewilderment and anger mixed in with the adult resentment.  He remembered the many times she’d left him alone in their shithole of an apartment, promising she’d be back “soon”.  Max had no idea what she’d done during the hours she’d been gone.  He only knew, with a small child’s sense of time, she would just go away and return at some point.  So he’d play in the apartment or let himself out to go roam the streets day or night; fall asleep when he was tired and wake himself up when he was hungry and look through the cabinets to see if there was anything for him to eat.

He didn’t like to think about the last time he’d seen her.  She’d been out all night, had come home and told him she was going out again.  It seemed like she was angry at him and he remembered the way she kept glancing back at the door.  Max had been hungry and mad at his mother for barely being back five minutes before she was leaving again and he’d yelled that he hated her.

She’d slapped him across the face and the force of it had taken them both by surprise.  She’d hit Max before but this time they just stared at each other for long moments before Joann tore her gaze away from her son to stare at her reddened palm and Max could taste blood in his mouth.  She’d stepped toward him, saying his name, and he’d yelled at her to _just go away_ before running to his room and slamming the door.

Max thought he remembered listening to Joann move around the apartment gathering her things but he also realized that might have been the adult adding on to the child’s memory.  What he did recall was his mother opening the door to his room and sweeping him up into a hug as if she was trying to apologize.  Still unhappy she was leaving, he’d squirmed out of her grasp and gone to sit on his bed.

It was only after the door to the apartment shut that Max suddenly became afraid.  He sprang off his bed and ran to the living room window.  Craning his neck, he could just see his mom down on the street corner talking to someone.  He called and waved to her but she didn’t look up, just stepped on to the bus when it pulled up to the corner and she was gone.

He really didn’t even remember if she’d actually said goodbye.

 _Enough of memory lane_ , Max decided, but he kept staring at the baby picture until his eyes grew heavy and closed.  The picture dropped from his hand. 

When he woke he found someone had removed his boots and covered him with a blanket. He could smell coffee and the sun was just starting to break around the curtains. There were murmuring voices in the kitchen and, listening, he could make out Hugh and Isabel talking softly. The rest of the house was quiet – at least until the rest of the Everetts woke up.

He got up, pulled on his boots, and wandered into the kitchen.  Hugh saw him first and pulled down another cup from the cabinet, gesturing towards the coffee pot. 

"Forget the cup," Max yawned, pointing to the crook of his elbow.  "Just get the IV."  He pulled out a chair and dropped into it.  "Morning," he finally greeted as Hugh set the cup in front of him.  "What time is it?"

"Just before six a.m." Hugh answered, glancing at the clock on the stove.

Max ran his hands through his hair in an effort to get it to lay down and internally groaned.  He was never going to be a morning person.

Isabel greeted him and took a sip of coffee before speaking further.  “We can call Luisa if you like,” she offered.  “It is your choice but if you would like to see if she knows any more?”

“I guess so,” Max said.  “I don’t know what more she could say other than what you’ve already told me but, yeah, okay.” 

"This doesn't have to happen, Max," Hugh said, tearing Max's attention away from Isabel as she nodded and went to get Lucia's phone number.  "You can leave it for now.  Just get used to the idea that you're part of our lives and come back to this when you're ready."

Max shook his head.  "Can't.  If I don't do it now, I won't come back to it and I'll always wonder…”  He didn’t say it aloud but he’d thought briefly that out of all the strange things that had already happened, it might not be so strange if this Lucia told him that his mother was alive.  Of course he had no idea how he’d even handle that but Lucia seemed to be the only one with any information at the moment.  If she had it, Max wanted it. 

Isabel returned with a worn, dog-eared address book and flipped through it. She found the number and dialed, looking at Max and giving him a nod before she began to speak in Italian. It was rapid and unintelligible to Max.  The only thing he caught was when Isabel said his mother’s name.  Then she was silent and moved next to Max, her free hand coming out to encircle his shoulders and pull him against her side while she listened. She said something else in Italian and then dropped the phone to her shoulder. 

"She says she remembers your Mama,” she said.  “She came with you to see Lucia just after Christmas; when you were a baby. She asked to stay and Lucia told her yes. She called Inina – Lucia did – to tell them Joann was there and to come see her baby. Inina and Vicente – my uncle – came to dinner and played with you and asked about your papa but Joann only say that he was away but Vicente had seen the newspapers and Eddie’s name.  There was an argument.  It made Inina angry that Joann was running away because her husband was a criminal first and then because she had been unfaithful.  She told Joann she should have remained with her husband, that a good wife would do so. Joann would not argue with her. She was very upset and cried and Inina finally told her it was done. Your momma should go to confession and get the man who gave her this child to take care of his son.  Who was he?  Where was he?"

There was some squawking from the phone and Isabel brought it up to her ear again and listened.  The tone of her voice seemed to indicate she was asking more questions.  She finally nodded and set the phone against her shoulder again. "That upset Joann. But Lucia says she was not mad. She was frightened. She would not speak of the other man.  She seemed...afraid of him and said he could not have you back."

“Say what?” Max asked.  He shook his head like a dog shaking water from its ears.  “Could you ask her about that again?  I mean, was he…was he bad to her or something?” 

Isabel did as Max requested and the first indication he had that the answer was not a particularly warm and fuzzy one was when the hand she had placed on his shoulder gripped it a little tighter.  She took a deep breath and Max did the same, never taking his eyes from her.  "She said Joann told them she would kill you herself before she would let _that monster_ have you.”  Her had pressed his shoulder again and then stroked it.  “I am sorry,” she said.  “He must have been very cruel to her."

Max was dimly aware that Frank had come downstairs and Hugh was gently motioning for him to go somewhere else.  “Um…wait.  Wait a minute."  This was all moving too fast.  His mother had been afraid for him?  Why?  He rubbed his eyes and dropped his gaze to stare at the table and the coffee cup in front of him, its contents now gone cold.  "Ask her," he said to the table.  "Ask her about the guy.  He have a name?  Why was she so scared?  Why would she say she'd...kill me herself?"  He could almost hear Andy telling him not to ask questions unless he really, really wanted the answers.  At the moment, though, all Max had was questions – and too many of them.

Isabel faithfully translated the questions but seemed less than happy with the answers. "Joann would not speak of the father of her child much at all.  She stayed with Lucia until she received a phone call one day.  She packed her things and yours and told Lucia she had to leave.  Inina had been right and she would go back and be there for Eddie when he got out of prison. She gave Lucia a phone number and an address to reach her but when Lucia tried, the phone number was not Joann and the letter she sent was returned as undeliverable. A man came a few months later with another man and asked for her.  Lucia told them she had not seen Joann for several months by then and that was the last time anyone asked about her until we called her this morning.  The rest of the family decided that the shame was too much for Joann and she simply left, moved far away.”  She sighed a little.  “Your momma never called to let anyone know where she was.”

Max didn’t bother asking the question that had been on the tip of tongue.  Lucia had just answered it.  But something else occurred to him.  "Can you ask her one more question?  Does she remember anything about this guy, like…did she ever say even what his name was?"

There was another hurried conversation. Isabel’s hand kept stroking back and forth over Max’s shoulder and he welcomed the contact as a way to anchor himself to the here and now in the midst of the detritus of the past.  "Not that she recalls.  One of the men who came looking for Joann was very tall and very handsome, blond. She remembers his name was Alexander because Hugh and I had given Valentine the same middle name and she asked him if he were also named for a king. He told her it was very likely. She doesn't remember anything else save that he was very nice."

Okay.  So he was back to Joann and Captain Question Mark.  Belatedly, Max realized Isabel was waiting for a response from him.  “Tell her thank you,” he said.  He rubbed his face with his hands and glanced at the clock while Isabel wound up the conversation.  “Hugh,” he asked.  “Would you mind giving me a ride to work?  I can catch the bus if it’s going to make you late.”

“No problem,” Hugh said.  “I’ll tell Frank and Pat to go on without me.  Grab a quick shower if you want.”

“Pete’s seen me worse.”  At least this time he wouldn’t be working with a hangover.  He did, however, duck into the bathroom to wash his face and quickly gargle some mouthwash since there was no point in being completely disgusting.  Wet hands through his hair served as both styling and combing tools while a quick search in the cabinet provided some deodorant.  He could grab a clean T-shirt during lunch.

When he re-entered the kitchen, Isabel motioned outside with one hand and handed him a small bag with each other.  “Hugh is out in the driveway.  This is some food and your pictures.”

“Thanks, Momma,” Max said.

She reached up and patted his cheek.  “Lucia also said to tell you it is good to know you found your way back to family.  You remember that today, eh?”

“Yes’m.”  It still felt a little awkward but he gave her a quick hug and kiss on the cheek before leaving.

Hugh was in the truck and already had it running.  Max climbed in next to him.  “Another exciting day of cash and prizes,” he tried to joke.

"Don't right know what to say to you, Max," Hugh said as he pulled out onto Ponce to head toward MATADA. "But you know where we are and what the phone number is. Bus line runs right to the corner if you want to stay with us - not all the time, just when you feel the need.  Give me a reason to finally fix up the basement."  Hugh tried for a lighthearted tone as well.  This was a lot of information to take in and he wasn’t the one whose world had just been turned upside down.  He didn’t want Max to feel obligated to be part of their family – especially after so many years on his own – but he wanted him to know the offer was there and sincere.  It would be up to Max to choose how much he wanted to integrate himself with the Everetts.

"I appreciate it, Hugh."

Hugh nodded and they finished the drive to MATADA in silence.  When they arrived, Max grabbed his food and the photos and thanked Hugh again before jumping out, telling him they had a late call tonight so he wouldn’t be over for dinner.  Hugh nodded and pulled away and Max stood there, staring at the disappearing truck, until Pete came out on the loading dock and called his name.

“Hey,” Max said.  “What's on the agenda for today?"

“Got a whole list for you, assistant mine.”  Pete chuckled and rubbed his hands together in imitation of classic movie villains. 

“If anything is on there about ransoming the Earth for one _meeeeeelion_ dollars, I quit,” Max rejoined. 

“How about if you have to tell someone ‘No, Mr. Bond.  I expect you to die.’?”

Max pretended to consider.  “I’m good with that.”  He dug into the bag and pulled out the small envelope of pictures.  “You got somewhere you can put this where it won’t get bent or banged up?”

“My office,” Pete said and extended his hand for the envelope.  “What is it?  Plans for world domination?”

Max took a breath.  He was still working it all out in his head and it sounded odd to say out loud but he figured he should get used to it at some point.  "Pictures of my mom.  Found out last night that I’m actually related to Isabel through her.”

“Really?” Pete asked.  “That sounds pretty nice.”

“Yeah.  I think it will be.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~   

Being Pete's assistant had several advantages.  The main one for today Max decided, was getting to dole out the work assignments.  He'd made sure he'd gotten to work by himself the majority of the day.  When it came time for the work party over at Val's and Tevis' future home, Max had joined those who'd gone over just after quitting time and handed out the assignments there as well.  He’d called the deck for himself, using the excuse of needing to check if the wood was still solid and what might need to be repaired.  It was at the back of the house and assured him that he’d be alone and away from the loud, fun, party atmosphere as much as possible unless someone specifically needed him.  He picked up his tools and measuring tape and called out a request to let him know when the pizza arrived as he left the main group at the front of the house.

Max breathed a sigh of relief as he slid his palms along the smooth, finished wood of the balcony railing.  This was what he wanted: some peace and quiet to think about the latest twist his life had taken.  He sank down to sit in the juncture between the wall of the house and the deck railing, elbows resting on his bent knees and hands dangling.  After a moment, he reached into his T-shirt pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lighter he'd kept in his dorm room.  He shook one out, put it in his mouth and lit it, setting the pack down by his feet.  Max squinted his eyes against the gray plume of smoke wafting up and tried to organize his thoughts. 

Having a family was going to be pretty awesome.  But he still had no idea who his father was or what had made his mother choose to abandon him.  In addition, what Mom had said about good old Captain Question Mark was not exactly comforting.  His mother would rather have killed him herself rather than let "that monster" touch him again?  _Yeah.  Great recommendation for father material there, Mom.  What the fuck?_ Max pensively drew the smoke into his lungs and then exhaled.

A discreet cough alerted him he was not alone and Max looked up to see Val standing in front of him.  "Evenin'," Max said and stubbed out his cigarette on the toe of his boot.

"Hey," Val said. "I didn’t know you smoked.”

“I don’t,” Max said.  In response to Val’s pointed look at the cigarette butt by his feet, he added.  “Not much.  Anymore.”

He got a small snort for that.  “Come here often?”

"Just wanted some peace and quiet to do a little thinking.  Of course," Max said, smiling up at his friend from his seated position, "I haven't come to any grand conclusions.  But then, my last name isn't Einstein...or Griffin, apparently."  He hadn't meant to say that.  "Sorry," he apologized sincerely.  "I guess I'm just a little rattled still.  Your mom talked to your Aunt Lucia for me this morning and I’ve still got more questions than answers."  He cocked his head.  “Huh.  I guess she’s kinda my Aunt Lucia now, too.”

Val hesitated, still feeling unsure of his position with Max - feeling unsure of everything.  He’d give it a little and see if Max would talk to him.  "This is nice," he said idly as he looked past Max to the small, manicured lawn.  "You guys have done...we appreciate it. I do. Tevis is excited about having a home," Val said quietly. "A job."

"I'm glad," Max said.  He took a closer look at Val.  "Are you thinking this may not be the way to go?"  Val seemed fidgety, nervous.  His usual graceful, flowing movements were now short and jerky as he gestured at the small house and yard.

"No, it'll be good. We'll make it be good," he said firmly, hand drifting lightly over the railing. "I have a job.  Dancing," he murmured.

"Dancing," Max repeated.

"Better than the streets. Pay's okay," Val said.

“Fair enough.”  Max stood up and swept the butt off the deck with his foot.  "C'mon, let's go find you something to do."

They walked slowly towards the front of the house.  Max put a hand on Val’s arm just before they reached the front door and Val stopped.  “Your aunt said some stuff about how people figured out Eddie wasn’t my dad and that my mom wouldn’t talk about who my father was.  The only thing she really said was she would kill me herself rather than let my biological father have me.  Only she called him 'that monster'."

Val raised his eyebrows. "The hell?” he asked, sounding shocked and also puzzled.  “Did she - what could she have meant? Sounds like she was scared of him. For you,"

"Either way, he split and I don't think I'll be calling up 1-800-REUNITE-US or anything like that."  Max opened the front door and ushered Val in.  He pointed to the living room where cans of paint and brushes sat in a row against the far wall.  "I'm sure you can handle staying within the lines on the trim there," he told Val.

He got a half-smile from the vampire "I think I can manage," he said.  Max watched long enough to make sure Val got started and then turned to head back outside only to nearly run directly into Adam.

"I have the time if you have another brush," Adam offered.  “Or I’m a fair hand at wiring if you need that,” he added, acknowledging the younger man's position as crew chief.

"Wiring would be good," Max agreed.  They were unfortunately short of electrical techs this evening and while Max knew Patrick Everett was a dab hand at wiring he hadn't voiced anything to him or any of the other Everetts, not wanting to take the chance they might actually show up and Val would have to hide or do some fast explanation before he was ready.

Adam followed Max as Val went over to join the people working on the trim in the living room. Shouts and laughter from upstairs floated down to mix in with the chatter in the lower portion of the house.  Someone else started some music going and Max motioned to Adam to follow him to a slightly quieter portion of the kitchen where they could talk about wiring.

They were deep in discussion when Tevis appeared along with Mike and Sheila, the owners of the café attached to MATADA.  All of them were laden with plates of sandwiches, pans of salad and bags of chips.  They arranged them on the kitchen counter while those nearest the kitchen passed the word to the other volunteers that dinner had arrived.  As everyone slowly grouped around the food and began to serve themselves, Max picked out a soda and drew back from the ground. 

Adam followed him after watching Val and Tevis disappear up the stairs.  “How was it going to see the Everetts when we got back?”

“It was good,” Max said.  He’d keep the other to himself for now but the rest of the news he didn’t mind sharing.  “Seems I’m actually related to Isabel,” he said.  “I don’t get it all but I _think_ we’re some kind of cousins.”

“So that means Tree is your cousin also?” Adam asked.

“Uh…yeah.  I guess.”  Max shrugged.

Adam let out a genuine laugh.  “Welcome to the South, Max.  You have truly been assimilated if you’re dating your cousin.”

Max choked on a mouthful of soda.  “I’m never gonna hear the end of this, am I?” he asked when he’d stopped coughing.

“Not from me,” Adam protested.  “I am genteel, British.  Now _Andrew_ on the other hand…”  All in all, though, he felt it a good thing.  Having family ties would reinforce for Max that he had value and was wanted here in Atlanta for more than just being Val’s project or Val’s friend.  It was something that had worried both him and Andy when they had talked about it between themselves.  "How did the Everetts take it?"

Max laughed.  "You know Momma Isabel.  She was happy as all get-out.  She talked to some relative of hers who told her some more stuff.  I couldn’t make too much sense of it.”  And what Max could make sense of wasn’t anything he wanted to think about right then.  He looked over to see the food trays were rapidly being emptied  "You want something to eat?"

Adam nodded and caught up a sandwich and a beer, making a place for himself on the kitchen counter. The meal was winding down when Val and Tevis returned.  The vampire looked less peaked and Tevis looked both pleased and a little dreamy. Pete threw a few cautionary comments at Tevis, who returned them with a sense of humor and the crew resumed work.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Over the next week or so, Max found himself mulling over what Isabel and Lucia had told him.  But what took up more time in his thoughts was what he had seen and had been explained to him not only by Adam but also Andy, Jan and Pete about the Pillars.  He wasn't sure why it had grabbed hold of him and not let go.  Perhaps it was the slight fantasy/sci-fi novel aspect of it all or perhaps it was because, in New Orleans, he'd gotten the first sense that these people trusted him, that they thought Max could be more than Max had ever given himself credit for.  He remembered that Pete had suggested coming to him first if Max ever did have questions about what MATADA did behind the scenes since not everyone was aware of the existence of the Pillars.  One day the opportunity seemed to present itself while they were talking in Pete’s office and Max took the plunge.

"You remember when I first got here?" he asked and continued when Pete nodded.  "You told me a lot about what happens that other employees don't really know about.  I've seen Adam and the rest and they seem to be more involved,” Max said.  "You said you work for them as well?"

"I do work for the Pillars on occasion," Pete said after a moment. "When they need me. I don't have gifts like Adam or Andy or, God forbid, Jan. It's all passive. My skill is with people or so Jan says," he added with a grin. "Not that any of you guys would believe it when we’re 24 hours from an opening. But there are times when one or another of them just needs somebody that can step in and take care of the stuff they do day to day. Work at Lattice or here at the theater, make sure payroll gets out when Jan is so beat from some problem or another he can't see straight.  Look after Sheila and Mike's little girl because Sheila is patching up some injury and she needs Mike there for her own comfort.

I do it 'cause I can. Half the folks that have worked here for any length of time find themselves doing just that. When your friends or husbands or wives have gifts that can't be replaced, you pick up the slack."

"Can you do that and, well, have a life?" Max asked.  "Y'know," he said, suddenly feeling exposed, "like, get married and all that?"  He shifted in his chair in Pete's office, hoping he looked casual enough. 

"Yeah..." Pete said thoughtfully, watching his friend for a minute. "I guess it depends on the situation.  Adam is married.  There’s Sheila and Mike.  Savill raised a son and got a law degree. You pick what's important. Think of it as being in job like a cop or a paramedic or a fireman. Sometimes you gotta go be there for people you don't know but then you come home. It may not be the same for Jan but then I'm not sure he would have ever had a family or wanted one. The others, though, they make it work.”

“You mean there’s hope for the relationship-challenged?” Max asked, hoping he sounded more like his usual self than just a moment ago.

Pete laughed.  “Yeah, there is.  I know Andy hopes to get married or at least be in a relationship for more than a week at a time.  That Irish woman he's dating - Rory, I think? - seems to be his best chance to date, though.  I have someone I've been with for awhile. Gary knows about the Pillars.  He's not really interested but he's okay with me being involved in it. Someday we may revisit the topic more in depth when we get around to moving in together." He cocked his head and smiled a little. "You working up to something?" he asked and managed not to add anything about a particular, now 18-year-old young woman.   He’d discovered Max could take friendly jibes about a lot of topics – his continuing hatred of early morning hours, having been a bouncer in a strip club, and his seeming refusal to talk more than thirty or so words per day unless his vocabulary was set free by banging his thumb with a hammer (but maybe repetitive phrases didn’t count).  However Max’s relationship with Val’s sister and his family was a tender subject and Pete tried to steer away from it unless Max specifically brought it up.

"Just curious," Max mumbled.  Yeah, see what happened when he talked to people?  He tossed the theatre truck keys to Pete.  "I'll see you tomorrow," he offered and headed for his dorm room. 

Once there, he went to the shower, spending a long time underneath the warm spray of water as he thought.  He liked working for MATADA and even still liked the idea of working for the Pillars if they wanted him.  It was just tiring trying to figure it out and put everything and everyone in a place that made sense to Max.  He sighed and shut off the water.  Maybe Jan or someone could do a mind scan like Mr. Spock and tell him who the hell he was supposed to be.  He was getting a brain cramp trying to figure this out on his own.

Sleep at least brought several hours respite from all the questions floating around in his head.  It still didn’t make him any more excited about the fact the sun was up and so was he.

Pete found him mainlining his second can of Pepsi in the break room.  "Come on, Kemosabe.  Lights. I think it's time you learned to cross-patch the dimmer board," he said. 

Max yawned and nodded at the same time.  They were done by lunch and Pete took off for home, telling Max to go ahead and take the rest of the day off.

Back in his room, Max regarded the small pile of clean clothes on top of his dresser and the ever-increasing pile of laundry in the corner and made a decision as to what to do with the rest of his day.  He bundled his clothes into his duffel bag along with some laundry soap he'd bought at the grocery store on the corner and took the bus to the Everetts.

The kids were still in school but Isabel was at home and welcomed him warmly when he knocked on the door and asked if he might be able to use their washer, adding that he'd brought his own soap.  She told Max to not be silly and ushered him inside, chattering to him all the while.  After visiting over coffee, she led Max down to the basement and showed him how the washing machine worked.  He dumped his clothes in the washer, added the detergent and let the cycle start as he sat on the basement steps and leaned against the banister.  The rhythmic thump of the machine lulled him into a doze that he was jerked out of when he heard the phone ring upstairs.  _One of these days,_ he thought, switching the clothes from the washer to the dryer and then heading back upstairs, _I'm going to catch up on all my sleep and then where will I be?_

He saw Isabel tapping her finger against the phone when he stepped into the kitchen.  "What's up?" he asked.

"That was Hugh," she told him.  "He is working still and Bernadette just phoned as well.  She will be late and she was supposed to pick up the children from school."

Max asked without thinking.  "You want me to do it?"

"Could you?" Isabel said gratefully. "I was going to call Frank or Mrs. Delado." She picked up the keys from the rack. "St. Bede's Catholic School. It is not far. You go to the end of the street and turn left onto Moreland, then you travel four blocks down and turn right on Two Creek Road. The school is just down a block or so. You will see. Theresa should have them all together. Make sure Tim has his homework!" she said as Max headed for the door.

He was out at the car before he realized what she’d said and laughed.  Make sure Tim has his homework.  He’d asked for legitimacy and it looked like he was getting it with a vengeance.

*****

Moreland Avenue was four lanes of non-stop traffic but Max found the school easily enough, going slow along the residential area of a neighborhood about four steps up from where the Everetts lived. St. Bede's was not an inexpensive school.  As he drove, kids dressed in navy skirts or shirts and white button-downs began to appear and small buses pulled into and out of the walled circular driveway and he maneuvered his way into the automotive throng to see Theresa talking to another girl about her age while she held Tim and Agnes' hands so they would not run off to play with friends. A couple of older women in traditional nun's habits supervised the area. Theresa recognized the car before she realized who was driving.  When she did, her lips curved in a smile as she said something to her friend and headed for the car with her younger siblings.

"Hey," he greeted them.  Agnes and Tim piled their gear into the car without coaching, backpacks flying off to land haphazardly on the seat.  "Got your homework, Tim?" Max remembered to ask.  Tim nodded at the rearview mirror as the door on the other side opened and Tree slid in.  "Hey," he said again, noting the way the uniform skirt showed off her slender legs and small waist.  His mind firmly instructed him to get hold of himself but his heart still thumped against his ribs when her dark blue eyes looked at him.

"I could get used to this," she said softly as she turned around to make sure her siblings were buckled in. A furtive look around and she leaned over to kiss Max, then she glanced to make sure the nuns had not seen the gesture.

He hazarded a glance over as well more in fun than anything else.  When it seemed the nuns weren’t watching, he returned the kiss to the sound of delighted and disgusted shrieks from Agnes and Tim.  Grinning and shaking his head at Tree, Max threatened to tie Tim to the luggage rack on top of the car at which Tim made a large show of "zipping his lip".

"I can hear it now," he said to Tree under cover of the car's engine. "Theresa and Max kissed.  It was gross."

She giggled but put her book bag beside her near the door so she had to sit closer to Max. "How come you got to pick us up?" she asked him.

"Worked with Pete this morning and then had some time so I came to beg on bended knee for use of your mom’s washing machine.”

He managed to keep the swearing at other parents and their driving internal as he got the car turned around and headed back into traffic for the short trip to the Everett home.  Once there, Agnes and Tim scrambled out of the car, white shirttails flying, to run upstairs and change, hopefully grabbing some play time before homework.  Max and Tree walked in behind them.  "In case you didn't hear the thundering herd, we're back," he called to Isabel as he entered the kitchen and put the keys back on the rack.  "If you ladies will excuse me, I think I hear my laundry calling."

"I can help," Theresa said. "It'll go faster if we both fold,” she said. "Let me change. I'll be fast and then you can help me with my homework," she added before her mother could intervene. She was up the stairs before either could protest and five minutes later was back downstairs in jeans and a T-shirt to follow Max down to the basement.

It turned into Max folding clothes under Tree’s supervision once she saw his idea of folding clothes was to cram them back in the same bag he’d used to haul his laundry to the Everetts in the first place.  When they finished, she crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the washing machine.  “Men,” she said with a smile and shake of her head

Max raised an eyebrow and simply grabbed Tree by the waist to sit her up on the closed washing machine.  She opened her legs and he leaned in so their bodies were nearly touching.  “So I can’t fold clothes,” he said.  “Pretty sure I’ve got some other talents you might be interested in.”

“I might be,” she breathed.  “I think a demonstration is in order, though.”

He braced his hands on the corners of the washing machine and leaned in, tilting his head so their lips would meet.  As they did, she wrapped her legs around his waist and he pulled her closer.  Her breasts grazed his chest and heat flooded through him as he felt himself start to grow hard.

Max pulled Tree’s shirt out from her jeans and slid his hands up her waist, rubbing his thumbs over the tips of her nipples, feeling the firm peaks underneath the thin fabric of her bra.  She gasped into his mouth and arched against him.

He reached around behind and managed to undo the bra hooks, all the while tasting the soft, wet heat of her mouth.  He could feel his erection straining against his jeans as he cupped one breast in his hand, caressing and teasing the sensitive flesh, and wound the other in her long hair to pull her closer, demand more, which she willingly gave.  One of her hands slipped under his loose T-shirt to stroke his chest, tease his nipples and stroke along his scar and she managed to slip the other between them enough to grasp the outline of his erection through his jeans and stroke.  His hips began moving in time with her hand and Max broke the kiss to nuzzle at her neck.  He could hear her harsh, quick breaths mingling with his own.  “I want—“

The door to the basement creaked open.  “Theresa,” her mother called down the stairs.  “I could use some help with dinner.”

They both started guiltily as though Isabel was suddenly standing in front of them instead of at the top of the stairs.  After a deep breath, Tree answered her mother.  “Be right there, Momma.  Had to teach Max how to fold clothes.”  She looked at Max and quickly kissed him once more, biting her lip to keep from laughing as Max barely held back a groan and dropped his head to Tree’s shoulder.  He moved enough for Tree to jump down from the washer.  She fixed her bra, smoothed down her T-shirt and headed towards the stairs, stopping when Max didn’t follow her.  “You coming?” she asked.

 _Almost._   “I’ll be…just gimme a minute,” he said.  When she nodded and started up the stairs, Max closed his eyes and tried to will his body into submission with deep breaths and thoughts of boring, unsexy things like root canals and tax returns. When he felt he could talk to Isabel without subconsciously broadcasting what had been going on under the name of “folding laundry”, Max grabbed his duffel bag and headed back upstairs.

Tree was washing and chopping vegetables by the time he appeared but she gave him a quick, soft smile before returning her attention to the task at hand.  Isabel was doing something that involved a pile of flour and eggs on the counter.  When Max asked, he got an impromptu lesson in making pasta.  When they heard Pat walk in, Max looked up at the clock and realized it was getting close to sunset.  "I should probably get going," he told them.  There wasn't another call night on the house until later in the week but he didn't know if anyone might be looking for him and he hadn't said where he was going.

"Let me grab a shower and I'll drop you off," Pat offered. "Got a date."

"Sure.  Thanks." 

Isabel gave Max several packages of leftovers and he gave Tree a chaste kiss on the cheek when Pat came back downstairs and they headed out the door.  Pat "Need to get you some wheels, cousin," Pat said as they pulled out of the driveway.

"Someday," Max agreed.  "Right now public transportation or the occasional ride works and there's always my feet.  What I make I'm saving."

"What for?" Pat asked.

"Something," Max said.  The idea was still precious and tender to him and he didn’t want to share it with a lot of people just yet.

"Something that has to do with a certain 18-year-old more than likely," Pat teased.  When Max ostentatiously looked at the road in front of them and refused to answer, Pat laughed but let the matter drop.

At MATADA, Pat dropped Max off in front of the dorm and Max went inside and up to his room to put his duffel on the bed.  Sitting on his bed, he unzipped it but only looked at the contents as the light scent of Tree's perfume wafted up from where it had been trapped in the cotton of the t-shirts she’d folded. 

Sighing, he looked around the small room.  It was nice but it wasn't a home.  That was what he'd just left; a place full of lights, noise and people.  He was grateful to Jan for giving him a place to stay but his dorm room, once more than enough for a guy who'd spent several years constantly on the move with carnivals, was now small and claustrophobic and...lonely.  Max knew he could call several of his co-workers or Andy and they'd be more than willing to hang out with him, being his friends, but he wanted more even if he couldn't specifically tell what he wanted.  Just...more.  He wanted more than a dorm room on MATADA grounds, more than just his own company night after night after all the employees that lived off-grounds (which was the majority of them) went home.

He wanted a place to call his own.  A place that would continue that feeling of family he always had when he was at the Everetts.

Feeling restless, Max left his laundry on the bed and the leftovers in the refrigerator.  He walked over to the theater, grabbed some supplies, and then walked the short distance to the house they were renovating for Val and Tevis.  If he didn't have a home, he could at least work on someone else's for a while.  Maybe that would help.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Adam and Phyl say we can have this sofa," Tevis said, sorting through their clothes that he'd taken out of the dryer and laid on the pool table. Val was sitting on the bed and folding those already washed.   They had done the Johnston's laundry as well; it seemed little enough for the hospitality they'd shown.

"That's nice of them," Val murmured, smiling a little at the thoroughly frilly and feminine dresses for Kira Lyn. They reminded him of Tree and Agnes when his sisters were little. His mother had loved little girl clothes with lots of lace and bows.  Of course, Kira Lyn couldn't keep them clean for more than two minutes but for those two minutes she was adorable.

"They are also giving us a car," Tevis said idly as his eyes narrowed and he carefully watched Val.

"They are nice people." Val agreed.

"Valentine!"

Val's head jerked up to see his lover staring at him with an exasperated expression on his face. "What? I heard you. They are giving us the sofa and a car," he said and then paused. "Oh."

Tevis closed the washer lid and came over to sit next to him, taking Val's hands in his. "I know this is difficult for you, cher. But you are _here_ now and your life is here. You should pay attention to it."

"I know. I'm trying," Val said, reaching up to gently touch Tevis’ face.

"Perhaps you should take Adam or Andrew up on their offer to talk?"

"I will," Val said and slid his hand along Tevis' neck, pulling him slightly forward.

"Distracting me now will not change my opinion," Tevis warned and couldn't help but smile when he saw a glimmer of amusement creep into Val's eyes.

"Never said it would," Val agreed again and sought his lover's mouth. Tevis responded warmly, eagerly, then pulled back as the dryer buzzer sounded.

"Hold that thought." 

**Author's Note:**

> This is an independent work based on the concept of the Kindred from the White Wolf World of Darkness Role-Playing Game and Novels. The concept of Immortality and the Game as presented here are the property of Gregory Widen and Panzer/Davis Productions, as are the characters of Duncan MacLeod and Methos (among others.) The Lattice characters and concepts appear here by permission of V. Watts and M. Snowden. All other characters and concepts are the property and creation of thewildmole and V. Watts.
> 
> Maygra and I originally began this saga way back in the dark reaches of the 1990's. We might have called this When Worlds Collide because it is a collision of sorts. Take a World of Darkness RPG, a healthy dose of the original universe set out in Lattice (by Snowden and Watts) and toss in two young men trying to make sense of the world around them, the balances between Chaos and Order, and the need to hold onto their own souls and you have Twin Sons and Different Brothers. Max and Val met by accident -- not unlike their creators. Maygra and I have enjoyed a long friendship apart from this collaboration but it would have never originally happened without this story. Having some time on my hands, I (thewildmole) decided to edit the original work and repost it (something Maygra is fine with). ...
> 
> We warn you now that the language is frequently harsh and the situations harsher. (Rated NC17 for violence, language and sexual situations.) The NPC Characters of Tevis, Madeleine, Crispin and assorted other vampires and inhabitants of New Orleans, belong to original World of Darkness RPG Game Mistress and Goddess Meg Wittenmyer (I think we have her permission.)
> 
> Warning: The following story may be rated G, PG, R, NC17 or even X. It may contain graphic depictions of sex between men or between men and women. I can pretty much guarantee there won't be any sex between people and animals...but nothing is ever 100%. Vampires, Immortals, Jedi and other anomolies are fair game though. There may be violence, graphic violence, nudity, bad language or adult themes. There may be non-consensual sex, rape, partner rape, hurt/comfort, and mental anguish. There may be torture, sadism, masochism, bondage, or bad verb conjugations. There may be death, there may be a major character death. The ending may be happy or it may be really depressing. There may be much affection, cuddling and kissing. There may be an uneasy resolution. Over-the-topness is not guaranteed but is highly probable. There may even be a plot. Or, there may be none of those things. You have been warned.This material may not be copied or distributed without permission--we intend no copyright infringement, make no profit and promise to share. Welcome to the darkside of the soap opera. Comments may be be sent to thewildmole@gmail.com and maygra@bellsouth.net


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